#Spell Chasers

[scarlett-calpaldi-16]

Feel free to reblog/share

[barbiehobi]

[🐿️🐹🐱]

hobi and his new shorts

twt post: here

[b1mbodoll]

just checked my notion n completely forget i wrote a whole sunghoon piece last night?? 😭 it was supposed to be chubby chaser hoon n then it turned into a breeding kink brainrot manifestation….

[jilyarchive]

Chasing Life

Title: Chasing Life

Author: mppmaraudergirl

Rating: M

Genre(s): Romance, Angst

Chapters: 8

Word Count:  62,053

Summary: James Potter enjoys the simple life. That is, being a national Quidditch star, drinking profusely with his mates, and no-strings-attached companionship. At least until he meets a beautiful, clever redhead who is immune to his charms and uninterested in his talents. She just might also help him see there is more to this thing called life than perpetual, meaningless bachelorhood.

[iicarused]

##let us adore you

jeff the killer x reader / eyeless jack x reader / ticci toby x reader / UNEDITED

synopsis: general headcanons in which how you met them

beware: DARK THEMES / yandere traits, stalking, implied manipulation, mentions of murder &&* gore //: if there is any that i missed, please let me know !

envelope from the author: masky, hoodie, and kate chaser will be pt 2 of this:)

JEFF THE KILLER

he met you at a convenience store, how funny. this man planned on killing the cashier, take the cash and leave a meal for his cannibal friend out back, then hop to the next town over. yet, you walked through the aisles of the store at the dark of the night. do you know what kind of creeps are out here at this hour?

he waited for you to leave before he got the job done. you should feel relieved, you should feel like the most luckiest person in the world and it’s because he spared you.

“no, i’m staying back.” he would tell his eyeless friend. “it’s my business to know and for you to fuck off,” he’d argue. “i have a… dilemma.” jeff confessed. for someone he only caught a glimpse of, for a voice he only heard a faint whisper from, he didn’t know whether to stay just for you or to leave while he can.

you were a plague in his mind, because he searched for you. it took three days at most to finally find the dorms you stayed in, and another three to know your roommates schedule. everyone in the area was shaken from the murder, everything including you. but why?

he could not understand why you would lock your windows and double check if the door was locked. both of you lived in a secured building where security littered the grounds and constantly checked ID. jeff would know, he stole a carbon copy of himself (in terms of dressing style) just to make sure of your safety on campus.

“hey, watch it!” jeff barked at the random who sped by you. he fixed his mask and came to your aid, a gloved hand coming over yours to help you up from the grass.

“oh, they’re probably just late to class,” you breathed. “it’s fine, but thank you.”

through the thin lens of his sunglasses, jeff drank in your appearance. “they could’ve bumped you on to the curb side — it really ain’t, sweetheart.” you smell great by the way.

“but they didn’t.” you finally looked at him and smiled. “are you a med student?”

you’re so sweet. so pure, and he wanted to corrupt that. he wanted to see those pretty doe eyes flutter up at him like that again, for the sweetness behind your gaze was enough for him to melt. he wants you, no, he needs you.

EYELESS JACK

you were a curious one, a little too curious in this scenario. a detective in a case of which you were to figure out why bodies were missing organs — or why people were waking up with soreness to their abdomen to only find a stitched up wound.

you took this case as an eager detective who wanted to solve the biggest mystery of north america — but you felt as if you just signed your life away. in the next eight victims that fell to their demise, you made notes of when and where it occurred. it would not be until a night after talking with the sheriff and little too much rum, you found something.

to your horror, the first letter of every street spelled something. two words that nearly sent you running if it weren’t for something stopping you from leaving

“found you.” his voice was a gentle whisper, and almost incoherent if it weren’t for the dead silence in the room. you dared not turn but you felt if you didn’t, it would come closer.

the pistol is on your desk and you’re ready to make a ruckus for anyone on the street to hear. “what? was this just some silly little game for you to show me you could spell?” there were only two regrets you had in your entire life.

the first regret was that you wished you never lied to your mother of who broke the plate that was on the floor. the second regret was turning around and facing a being that was too intricate for you to understand.

“i like playing with my food.” he replied before lunging at you.

you made it out alive — but at the cost of remembering how those sockets were nothing but a void. the liquid that cried on to your face when he was on top of you, and that second, you took your pen and stabbed his side. — but that encounter made you more determined than before

this case turned into a game of cat and mouse, and neither of you know who is cat or who is the mouse. chasing each other became a source of entertainment, and conversations ensued between physical fights

he never intended on killing you, oh no. you were too… fun. the chatting, the hunting each other, the thrill of it all made him go crazy. with time, maybe he can finally sink his teeth into your skin without the murder aspect. he just wants to taste you.

TICCI TOBY

your name appeared on the file of people to “take care of.” why? he doesn’t know and quite frankly, he cannot care. you were just another name on the list that needed to be gone.

he would not lie that it took him ages to find you. the town you were supposedly at was a total flunk, and when he told the boss, he was told to figure it out. at this rate, he wanted you gone for the sake of his own sanity. yet, after a month and hopping two towns, he finally found you.

everything he had on file sprouted nothing but lies because you were a doll, quiet literally if he fixated on your skin. he watched the way you moved and the way you made it seem effortless to walk on two feet. he often tripped over his when gawking over you. your scent is just how he imagined it when he peered over your sleeping form.

you made him forget why he was in search of you in the first place. toby fantasized a lot about you: your curves, your voice, your walk, your life. he often daydreamed of it when watching from afar, especially when you went through mundane tasks such as grocery shopping. the only time he remembered why he was told to end you was when he questioned why you were such a threat.

turns out you were friends of a friend who was a foe to his boss — the eyeless man. he made it no secret when in turn he went to find jack, but he didn’t expect to meet you so soon! oh, this is way too soon, how does he look? is it okay, this setting isn’t the right place, i mean, you were supposed to be

“toby? just toby? that isn’t quiet threatening for a man like that, isn’t it?” you werent speaking towards him, but instead asking jack who snorted in return.

you were a prize on the shelf, and toby wanted to keep you behind glass doors. “listen — pal, friend — how about we make a deal.”

while jack couldn’t see it, your gaze was locked with toby’s the entire time. there was something behind them, something that you couldn’t quite place. you weren’t sure whether if it was a good or bad thing considering the work you found yourself in.

“i give you a useful warning from a boss, and i... tag a long sometimes.”

[ynscrazylife]

seekers get stitches (poly!marauders x slytherin!seeker!reader)

In your opinion, the Marauders are arseholes. They were tolerable as first years, even as second years, but was they grew up, they only got more annoying as their pranks got bigger and bigger. It doesn’t help that they seem to hate all Slytherins, which is the house you belong to. You understand that yes, many of the students have given the house a bad name, but it’s not all of you! Yet somehow, you frequently ended up on the unfortunate end of many of their pranks.

Now, you’ve had the chance to stand up to them, being the Seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch Team this season. James is the Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, giving the Marauders even more of a reason to dislike you. James and Sirius even go as far as to hang around during your team’s practice time, booing you or making jokes at your expense from the stands.

Well, it’s the semi-finals. Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. Whoever wins this will go up against Ravenclaw for this year’s Quidditch Cup. Everyone is talking about this game — Remus even put his book down to pay attention. Both teams’ chasers have been scouring points, but the crowd’s eyes are locked onto you and James. You can feel hundreds of stares lasered on your back as you race around the pitch. When you finally spot the golden blur of the snitch, you don’t think twice before racing towards it. James follows you and soon, you’re quite literally neck and neck.

“Just give up now, Y/LN! You’re not gonna catch it,” James yells over the wind.

His words vaguely register in your mind, but you don’t pay attention. Everything is riding on this. You’ll either return to the common room as your house’s hero to pat on the back or their villain to torment.

“What, no comeback?” James prods.

You grunt, stretching your hands out. The snitch’s wings flutter against your fingertips. You lean forward as far as possible, one shaky hand remaining on the broom, you’re so close.

But so is James. His hand joins yours. Curse his tall stature, you think. It’s just not fair!

You swear you’re about to have it in your hand when—a bludger beams your shoulder, knocking you sideways and directly into James. The snitch flies away as the both of you fall, tumbling straight towards the ground. Lights out.

//

When you open your eyes, you find the faces of a couple friends staring back down at you. They tell you that you’re in the hospital wing after a Quidditch accident, with a dislocated shoulder, a concussion, and a broken ankle. Madame Pomfrey used a spell to set your shoulder, but you still need to stay in bed and take potions for your injuries, requiring a longer stay here.

“Who caught the snitch?” You ask, the memories hazy.

“I did.”

You turn your head, only to see James Potter lying in the bed next to you. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin are sitting by him and they wave. James’ nose, arm, and leg are all bandaged up.

“Caught it right before you knocked into me,” James elaborates.

Your stomach churns, realizing why only your friends are here and not your team. You lost the game for them, they must be disappointed.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, unsure of what you’re supposed to say to that.

“Don’t be, it’s the bludger’s fault. James is just being difficult,” Remus says, waving his hand. Out of the three of them, he’s definitely the nicest.

//

As the days go on, Sirius and Remus are there every day. Your friends aren’t. They visit a couple more times, then they stop. They’re busy, they have classes, you understand. At least, that’s what you tell yourself. Oftentimes, you end up accidentally listening to the Marauders’ conversations. James gives Sirius and Remus his plans for pranks, the other two update them on what’s going on around the castle.

They visit a lot.

One afternoon, you wake up from a nap to find them visiting again, though, and talking about you.

“Isn’t it weird that her friends barely visit her?”

“Haven’t seen her team around either. Thought Slytherins cared about their own.”

“Must suck for her.”

“Yeah.”

Your nap wasn’t particularly good, with the uncomfortable mattress and scratchy sheets. You open your eyes, frowning at the trio, in a bad mood. “You know, I don’t need your pity,” you say.

Three heads snap towards you, all looking like deer in headlights (you have no clue that for James, it’s truer than you think).

“It’s not - we’re not pitying you. It’s, uh, empathy,” Sirius rushes to cover them.

You roll your eyes. “Uh-huh,” you say, not believing him. You shake your head, tired of lying in this bed and being in pain and having the three of them sit next to you day after day after day. You decide you’re done here, your arm’s in a sling, your ankle’s almost 100% healed, it’s fine.

You throw the blanket aside, standing up, only to stumble. It’s not your ankle, it’s your head. Damn concussion.

“Woah, woah,” Remus says, both him and Sirius getting up to approach you. “You should sit back down.”

“I’m fine,” you say stubbornly, taking a couple more unbalanced steps only for Sirius to grasp at your arm.

“Come on, don’t make us tell Pomfrey on you, it’d really hurt my reputation,” Sirius says, smiling.

You snatch your arm away, anger flaring up. “Like I give a bloody hell about your reputation!” You exclaim.

“Hey, what’s the problem?” Sirius asks, putting his hands up.

“My problem? You guys are the ones who have a problem with me! You’re always asses to me, then you talk about me behind my back . . . I don’t even see why you care where I go or what I do. I’m a Slytherin, remember?” You say.

That quiets the Marauders. They’re not sure how to respond because, well, you’re right. Slytherins are easy to hate, so they hate them.

“Y/L/N, back in bed.”

Crap. It’s Pomfrey. You sigh and do what he says. The Marauders don’t say anything else.

//

After a couple more days, James is out of the hospital wing, managing to talk Pomfrey into releasing him. You’re still stuck there, as the concussion’s giving you trouble.

It’s lonely without their chatter. As much as they annoy you, you miss it. You miss them. Just a little bit. When they’re not hating on Slytherins, they’re . . . Nice. Fun.

It’s just your luck that they come around again, to visit you.

“Hey,” James says, Remus and Sirius behind you.

You huff. “Hi,” you say, making a tight line with your lips. What are they doing here? They don’t care.

“We wanted to see how you were doing and, uh, talk, if we can?” Remus says, politely smiling at you.

“If it’s more bullshit on pitying me—” you start.

“It’s not. We don’t like Slytherins, okay?” Sirius says, pulling up a chair and sitting down next to you. James and Remus follow.

You take a breath and stare, waiting for the explanation.

“A lot of them believe in all the Death Eater shit,” James says.

“But not all,” you point out.

James nods. “Not all. But we’re pranksters. We prank Slytherins because it’s easy. We also prank other houses but you’re right, we like to target Slytherins. There’s no reason for that other than that we can. It’s-it’s easy to not like them. To convince ourselves that they deserve it. For you, it was easy to . . . To not like you, either. Quidditch rivalry, right? But you have a point. We shouldn’t . . . We shouldn’t be so, ah, mean to all of them. The ones who aren’t into the Death Eater shit,” he explains.

You’re a bit surprised, a bit suspicious. Is this really the truth?

“Not so easy to convince yourself anymore, is it?” You ask.

“No, it’s not,” Sirius affirms.

“We brought cards,” Remus offers, taking a deck out of his pockets. “Figured you were pretty bored in here.”

“Prove it to me that you’re being honest, then I’ll think about playing cards with you,” you say, putting on a brave face. You have no clue that if they’ll actually do it or not.

But they agree to your terms. They start being real, not targeting random Slytherins. They stop being mean.

Eventually, you do agree to play cards with them. You’re almost out of the hospital wing, too. In fact, it’s your last night there, you’ve just beat them all in the game, when you decide to ask them why. What compelled them to come seek you out after James got out of the hospital wing, if not just feeling bad?

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sirius asks, grinning. “We’ve all fallen for you, love.”

That sparks the start of something new for the four of you.

[whenlilyfallsinlove]

amortentia

fred weasley x ravenclaw reader. this is a quite short one sorryyyy!!

"AND CAPTAIN L/N HAS THE QUAFFLE, SHE SHOOTS AND SHE GETS PAST WOOD. SHE SCORES. 10 POINTS TO RAVENCLAW." lee jordan's dejected voice was heard from his commentating box.

you smile to yourself. you were captain of the ravenclaw quidditch team and you were absolutely determined to win the quidditch cup. you knew it was probably unlikely, gryffindor had harry potter who was a magnificent seeker, but secretly you thought your seeker cho was just as good.

"SAMUELS. INGLEBEE. BE RUTHLESS. THE WEASLEYS ARE!! STOP BEING POLITE." you order your beaters, to which they rolled their eyes but listened none the less.

fred weasley, one of the gryffindor beaters and someone you'd say you had a "playful rivalry" with, heard you say this.

"i knew you loved me really l/n." he shouted, smiling and then aiming a bludger at you.

you expertly dodged it and caught the quaffle from burrow, another chaser.

"you wish weasley." you zoomed past him and chucked the quaffle into the hoop.

"L/N SCORES AGAIN, ANOTHER TEN POINTS TO RAVENCLAW." lee shouted.

"i thought your team was supposed to be good, weasley." you smirk at him.

"shut up." fred scowls at you, and you grin.

your chat was however disrupted by harry potter, the gryffindor seeker, casting a patronum spell.

you turn to see some slytherin 3 years laying on the floor, gasping. you chuckle at the sight.

what you don't laugh at, however, is harry holding up the snitch, ending the match. gryffindor had won.

"i thought your team was supposed to be good l/n." fred mocked you.

"shut up." you flew back to the rest of your team, probably to give them a speech.

you were quite in awe at the patronus charm harry had produced, so you went over to him, whilst he was, no doubt, being praised by his teammates.

"good game wood." you look at the gryffindor captain.

"good game l/n." he nods back at you.

"you're not here to attack us, are you? for winning? ravenclaw can't win all the time, you know." fred asks you.

you roll your eyes playfully.

"whatever, i'm actually here to speak to harry. your patronus spell was incredible! how did you even do that?!" you smile at him, which catches fred off guard.

"o-oh uhh t-thank you, professor lupin taught me." harry blushed, not used to the female attention.

"it was brill." you gave him another smile.

"flirting with potter won't change the result of the match, love." fred smirked at you.

"i'm not.. you know what." you shake your head and walk back to you own team, not before you immaturely stuck your tongue out at fred before you left.

"unbelievable" fred muttered, but he was smiling.

"just admit you fancy her, mate." george nudged him

"never."

over the next week, you kept your head down, keeping a low profile, like you always did when you lost a match. you had a competitive nature, so of course you were annoyed.

you weren't looking forward to potions. sure you were good at it, but snape infuriated you. and you also shared a class with the gryffindors. fred weasley would be there, your "enemy". you groaned to yourself.

as you arrived, late, may you add, resulting in 10 points off ravenclaw, you had realised snape was putting people in pairs for the potions you'd be making.

"jordan and george weasley, johnson and spinnet, l/n and-"

you waited for whoever snape was going to pair you with.

"fred weasley."

"for godrics sake." you frowned. just your rotten luck.

you moved next to him, avoiding eye contact.

"we meet again" fred smirks.

"seems like you can't get enough of me." you respond.

"i-" his words were cut off by snape.

"today, we are going to be brewing amortentia. l/n, what is amortentia?"

"the most powerful love potion in the world, it's supposed to smell differently for every wizard." you respond.

"smart-arse" fred nudges you.

you roll your eyes, but you were smiling.

"quite vague, but correct l/n. it is the most powerful love potion in existence. you are all going to be brewing it today." snape instructs, and leaves you to work.

"weasley, get the pearl dust." you say, beginning to pour the ingredients already out in the cauldron.

"on it." he salutes and winks at you.

you shake your head and continue to work. when fred comes back, you are surprised in how much you were getting on.

"thats time up." snape points to you and fred. "you two, what can you smell?"

"i smell... i smell.. i don't bloody know, y/n move away from me, all i can smell is your shampoo." he frowned at you.

"don't be ridiculous, let me have a go.." you smell your potion.

"right fred, shift, your cologne is overbearing, it's all i can smell." you sigh.

the other students laugh, realising what was happening.

"that's all i need." you could've sworn you saw a hint of a smile on snape's face.

oh. oh. you had smelt fred in your amortentia. no way. you couldn't have. this was insane. but.. it made sense.

"looks like you fancy me l/n." fred grins, but you could see him blushing slightly.

"i think you're the one that fancies me." you respond, with a small smile.

he shakes his head.

"you caught me... look do you want to go to hogsmeade on saturday? i promise i won't tease you about us beating you."

and to your surprise, you found yourself saying yes.

[kquil]

How about the marauders meeting their match in reader from Slytherin and falling for her, but reader is oblivious?

Btw i love your writing, you're literally my favorite writer

I tried! it's not my best work but i hope you like it anyhow, darling

i also hope i interpreted this request correctly (┳Д┳)

length : 0.8k

You go barrelling into James’s chest with a yelp and take a moment to recover, “oops! Sorry about that!” you grin up at the Gryffindor chaser as he and his three other friends stare down at you in bewilderment. Most Slytherins would scoff or pull a disgusted face at the sight of a Gryffindor so your apparent and undisturbed rapture was bewildering. 

“GET BACK HERE YOU DAFT COW!” It was then that they finally saw the merriment be wiped from your face and get replaced by slight terror. 

“gottarunbye!” you push away from James’s chest and speed away as the marauders stare at you, still bewildered at what they just witnessed. Not long after you made your prompt exit did a group of Slytherins go run past them with warts all over their faces. 

“Wow…” Sirius whistles lowly, impressed by your handiwork, “Rosier, Macmillan, Lestrange, Malfoy and Nott too,”

“To her own house as well,” James voices in shock. 

“Somehow, I hope she gets away with it,” Remus tucks his hands into his pockets as he smirks at his friends. 

“Me too,” Peter pipes in, “I was partners with her in Potions once, she was civil, friendly even but still guarded,” the boys listened to his observations closely, even leaning in to do so, “I thought she was just shy but…”

“Interesting…” Remus hums to himself, speaking what was on everyone’s minds.  

The next time they see you is during charms. The room was circular and the podium for the teacher to explain spells and communicate openly with the students was in the centre, while the students were seated all around and at different levels, much like a circular theatre. From their side of the room, James, Sirius and Remus watch as you snicker to yourself, using the ‘wingardum leviosa’ charm to sneakily move the quill of the Slytherin in front and below you from their right side to their left, then back again when they found it but didn’t have use for it at that moment. 

Sirius giggles along with you when you make eye contact across the room. You wink at him and mouth a ‘watch this’. He focuses his gaze on the scene and has to hold back a devious cackle when you momentarily transfigure the quill into a spider just as the Slytherin student went to reach for his ‘quill’. This pulls a piercing, girlish scream out of your victim but when the professor swiftly turns to see what was wrong, you had already turned the spider back into a quill again. Promptly, Slytherin was deducted house points for causing a disruption in class — a small price to pay. 

“She’s my new idol,” Sirius sighs with his chin propped up on his palm, a dreamy look in his eyes, “forget her being a Slytherin,”

You meet eyes with Sirius once more, who silently claps for you as you pretend to tip a hat at him. Looking down you see James with his jaw slacked and mouth open at you in awe. He couldn’t believe how brilliant you were and his mind was racing with thoughts of whether he should try to compete against you or celebrate your small but remarkable victory. So caught up in his admiration of you, James overlooked the elegant swish of your wand and almost screamed in fear when he felt something ticking his chin. Abruptly pulling away with force, he watches as his feathered quill slowly floats down to his desk, beside his parchment. 

“She tickled me…” James awes, “with my quill…” 

“She’s a pretty little minx, is what she is,” Sirius comments with a chuckle, unable to take his eyes off your sweet face and pouty lips. Beside his two friends, Remus stares at you with a captivated gaze and can’t seem to keep his eyes away for too long when they have to return to taking notes for class. You became a prominent distraction for Remus, leaving Peter to seek help from the student seated on his other side, who wasn’t much good either. 

After some moments, Remus looks up at you only to make brief eye contact with him, which he embarrassingly, swiftly pulls away from. He looks at you several more times, still avoiding your gaze, until he catches you folding up a small piece of paper. He proceeds to stare in fascination as you create an origami bird that you gently breathe life into, sending it across the classroom to him, flapping its delicate wings for flight. The dainty bird lands gracefully on his parchment, where it falls lifelessly. Meeting your eyes again, you subtly signal him to unfold it and read the message written inside while Sirius and James lean over to have a read for themselves. 

‘Who’s more ticklish between you and Sirius?’

The question makes Remus look up and stare at you with a raised brow. However, the sight of your impish smirk as you twirl your wand between your fingers makes his heart hammer in his chest frantically. The brunette turns to James who was holding in his laughter and trying to hide his grin behind a closed fist. 

“Looks like you two are next,” the Gryffindor chaser chuckles under his breath as Sirius and Remus share a look before gulping apprehensively. They look at you with tense shoulders, nervous eyes and butterflies in their stomachs. 

[milunalupin]

— pickup lines

james potter x reader ★ 900 words

With Valentine's Day coming up, James knew that this was the time to shoot his shot with you, the beautiful witch who sat in front of him in Transfiguration class, and his crush for the past three years. He had stayed up late last night with Sirius thinking of pickup lines to gain your affection, the little red journal in his hands full of their best ones.

He walked through the halls to find you, eager to try out his first line on you. Luckily, you were sitting alone on a bench in the courtyard, sitting crisscrossed with a book in your lap. He took a deep breath and walked- no, strut past you, making sure his steps were loud enough for you to look up and notice him.

"Oh, hey James." You marked your place in the book with a leaf and smiled up at him. He hopes you don't notice the hearts in his eyes when he looks back at you.

"Y/N! Do you believe in love at first sight or should I walk away? No! Wait, I'm going to come back, just pretend you didn't see me yet!" James hurried around the corner, groaning quietly in embarrassment.

You let out a confused laugh, holding back a grin as James walked past you again, turning towards you with a confident smile.

"Hi there, do you believe in love at first sight or should-"

"James, James!" Peter ran up to his friend, waving a chocolate frog card in his face. "I finally got Godric Gryffindor, I got all the founders before you, you owe me five galleons! Oh, hi Y/N."

James dropped his head, his ears burning red. Of course, of course Peter would run in right at this moment. James Potter can mess up a pickup line once, fine, no problem. But twice? What would Fleamont say, shaming the Potter name like this. Sure, he only spent hours planning out what he wanted to say to you today, but he spent years trying to just gain the confidence to to ask you out. He may be a lovesick fool, but he's no quitter.

"Sorry about that Y/N, anyways- wait, where'd she go?" When James had raised his head to apologize and try again, he only found Peter munching on his chocolate, admiring his Godric Gryffindor card.

"She left for class, you were too busy feeling shame then giving yourself an internal pep talk to notice. Don't worry, she said bye to you before walking away, that's got to mean something, right?"

James's shoulders dropped, a disappointed pout on his face. He shook his head and marched back to his dorm, already preparing for his next idea.

-

"No, I'm not using 'I'm Sirius-ly into you'."

"Well I think any smart girl would fall for that." Sirius muttered, flying circles around the stressed Chaser.

James rolled his eyes, stretching his arms above his head as they got ready for their match against Slytherin.

"Good luck today Potter, Black."

James immediately perked up, seeing you walk past them on the way to the stands. He jogged over to catch up to you, taking a breath before delivery his next line.

"Y/N, I may not a Seeker, Chaser, or Beater, but I'm a Keeper."

He held out his arms, fingers waggling as he smiled, awaiting your reaction.

"Did you change positions? I thought you were a Chaser." You tilted your head, brows furrowing in confusion.

His hands slowly fell to his side, his smile turning into a grimace.

"I-I am! A Chaser.. but.." He sighed, pulling his lips into a tight smile, shaking head and laughing. "Nevermind, sorry. I've got to get ready, enjoy the game, love."

He walked back to a sympathetic Sirius, blaming the wind on his watery eyes.

-

"Remember the incantation, 'Evanesco'. Take turns with your partner, you may begin."

Finally, Transfiguration class. James had a good line this time, and he had made sure to sit next to Y/N so they'd be partners. He leaned against the desk, turning his body towards her as he smirked.

"You're really good at spell casting. Did you just use the Confundus charm, or are you just naturally mind-blowing?"

"Mr. Potter, may I remind you that this is Transfiguration, not Charms class. Miss Y/N might appreciate your attempts to gain her affection if you at least stayed on theme."

Professor McGonagall's mouth turned up slightly as she tapped her wand on James' desk, holding back a grin as she left him speechless, walking away. Sirius' and Peter's cackles could be heard over everyone else's hollers from the back of the class as they subtly high fived their Minnie.

"Gain my affection?" You turned to James, his face red as he looked at you with wide eyes.

"I uh.. I've been trying to ask you to be my valentine.." He mumbled, embarrassed that McGonagall had outed him like that in front of the class.

"Your valentine? Merlin, James, why didn't you just ask me? I've been waiting for you to ask me!" You laughed, nudging him with your elbow.

James didn't think his jaw could drop that low. No way you just said that. He quickly collected himself and grabbed your hands, bringing them up to his chest.

"Please, be my valentine?"

"Of course James, I can't believe you didn't notice that I'm Sirius-ly into you."

[the-californicationist]

Hello🐻❤

Military!Biker!Price ?

I mean... Repaired a motorcycle, ride a biker

I love you Cali ❤🫂

I love you too @leixy and I’m so sorry for the wait!! Hope you enjoy the story 🩷🩷

MDNI

Storm Chaser

The rumble that you heard just outside of your garage may have been mistaken for thunder. The skies were gray, and as they rolled across the firmament, you knew they’d linger, soaking the ground and making the soil black with its fallen waters. But, this wasn’t a thundercall. This was a Triumph. 

A giant, hulking man, laden with muscle and black leather gear, rolled into your mechanic shop’s driveway on a blacked out, stealthy Triumph Storm GT. Its rider’s face was covered in a full helmet, and as he slowed to a stop, his heavy boot dug into the shale, catching the center of the bike and sitting up straight, killing the enormous engine.

He looked at you. You knew he was looking at you because there was no one else to look at. You saw yourself in the black mirror of his visor, and all around you were the empty fields surrounding your shop, the tall grass roiling in the wind. 

The gloves came off first, and you indulged in his hands. They seemed monstrous; a thin dusting of dark hair covered his skin, and each finger looked like it might have been wider than two of your own. His nails were clean, which surprised you for some reason, and there was a nasty scar along his right palm. 

He fiddled with his helmet, unlatching the buckle, and then yanked it over his head. 

Shit. You cursed inside of your mind. He’s hot as hell.

You’d been drooling over the bike, but the man sweetened the deal. He was ruggedly handsome, and his movements were so easy. It was like being in the presence of a magician, as if he knew all the secrets and delighted in hiding them from you. He was so certain, so sure of his tricks, and you waited on him to break the spell he’d put on you. 

“Alright, love? How’s it goin’?”

He held out his hand for you to shake, and it warmed you like a fire. His grip was firm but careful, and he let you go without a shake. You smiled,

“All good. Slow day,” you pointed upwards, “No one but you out in this weather.”

He chuckled, and you fell for him even harder. His mirth was contagious. He looked up at the darkening sky and told you,

“Aye, it was pourin’ cats and dogs a few minutes ago. Chasin’ me here, I’ll wager. Thought I’d wait it out here. Maybe get the service I’m due for.”

“This bike’s brand new,” you scoffed, “How did you put ten thousand miles on it already?”

He gave you a half-grin and admitted with a shrug,

“I like to get away.” 

You nodded, and he dismounted, unzipping his jacket for comfort. You gave the bike a once-over, checking for any signs of trouble. As new as it was, you’d already been trained on it, so you felt confident you could help him. You mentioned your plan,

“Oil, brake pads, filters. Check your sensors. My Triumph cert is up to date, so we’ll just clean her up by the book. How does that sound, mister…?”

“Price. John Price. Sounds class, love.”

“Waiting room just in there, John,” you pointed over to the tiny little sitting room you’d added to the garage, “Got a library and some coffee. Should be fresh. Just made a new pot a few minutes ago.”

“Cheers,” he smiled, and it was the most handsome one you’d seen in a while. His full lips stretched into his cheeks, and his tanned skin crinkled up to his eyes. 

The eyes themselves were a problem. They were a hue of blue you’d never seen, and they pinned you down like a wild animal, a hunter and his prey. But, all of that ferality was tied taut, held by a rope in his clenched fist, and his gnashing hungry teeth were kept from biting you, controlled by his tight-laced civility. All of that chivalry made you wonder what he was like when he was allowed a little freedom. 

As he walked away from you, you ogled him. You weren’t even ashamed to do it. He was everything you wanted in a man. Him and his bike oozed a primal sort of power that you’d been craving, and you wanted a taste of that freedom. 

His bike was his escape, that was for sure. Ten thousand mile service after only a few months of ownership was impressive. This man liked to ride long and often. There was plenty of evidence of wear and tear, but as rough as he had been with his ride, there was evidence of his love as well. The clean body, the mended tailpipe, evidence of a scuff polished away; it was all proof of his affection.

The service was easy and quick. As you were checking his sensors and finishing up the job, the first pitter patter of rain began to fall into the gravel drive. In the beginning, it was soft and sweet, just a few drops here and there. Then, over the short span of mere moments, it came down in a torrential pour, slamming itself into the ground and pummeling the pavement. 

You watched it slip and slide off of your metal roof in sheets, and you got close enough to the edge so that you could feel the cool spray from the downpour, a few droplets spitting onto your nose and cheeks. A bright blue bolt of lightning streaked across the cloudy pall, followed by a deafening roar of thunder that resonated in the hollow of your chest. 

Cleaning the oil from your hands as best you could, you went to deliver the bill to your customer. To your sick delight, he’d be trapped with you at least until the storm passed, and you crossed your fingers that he could do with a bit of company. 

He was sitting on the wide couch in the waiting room, his hands prying open a book. When you looked at the spine, you noticed that he was deep into the first few chapters of Moby Dick.

“Having fun yet, John?”

“Enjoying the rain on this tin roof of yours. Makes me want to kip down here on your sofa. Love to fall asleep listenin’ to the storm.”

“Me, too,” you admit, nodding towards the book, “Has he caught the whale yet?”

John shook his head,

“No, we barely got out of the harbor. You work fast. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me though, love. I don’t fancy a ride out in this mess.”

“No problem. Take all the time you need.”

“D’ya mind?” He dug around in his jacket and pulled out a short, fat cigar. 

You waved him on, motioning that it was alright with you, and he happily lit his stick, working an ambery, glowing tip until fiery smoke spilled from the end. You were about to turn and hide somewhere else, anywhere that you wouldn’t need to smell his burnt, woodsy scent. It was making you hungry for a puff of his cigar and a long lick of the inside of his mouth. 

A little self-control please… You begged yourself. 

He caught you as you started to leave, and the feeling of his hand on his surprised you with its warm sincerity. You looked down at him, but you didn’t pull away. 

“Stay… for a bit. I was just gettin’ to the good part,” he said with a sly smile, holding up the book as if to offer it to you. 

“Alright,” you replied, your voice sounding too small and too quiet in the small space. 

You sat next to him, worrying over your oil-stained nails as he read aloud to you, pausing every now and then to smoke his cigar or to turn his pages. Slowly, you started to relax, and as you leaned back into the couch, the sound of his voice and the drumming of the rain blended together into a soporific haze. You caught yourself looking at him — staring at him — with hooded eyes, studying the way his lips and tongue and teeth formed his words. The dark bristles of his beard giving you a clear view of every micro-movement of his face. 

He was looking at you, now, too. Staring at you. Every now and then, he’d glance back at the book, read a few lines, and then take a long pause to smoke and to meet your gaze. 

Suddenly, he seemed to make a conscious choice. He sat forward, and his huge shoulders cast a shadow over you. He held out his cigar and asked, 

“Fancy a smoke?”

You didn’t reply, but you took it from him ever so slowly, as if he might bite, and put the end in your mouth. You sucked in the smoke to taste the rich tobacco, and you let it roll around in your mouth before releasing it, letting it hit him in the chest and neck, billowing around his stoney jawline. 

Then, he said something to you in a new voice. It was one you knew, but you hadn’t heard it in a very long time. It was desire,

“Pretty little thing, aren’t you, love?”

You let his compliment wash over you like the downpour outside. It soaked through, right to your bones. You took another drag from the cigar, earning yourself a deeper chuckle and a pleased, approving grin.

“You should see me when I’m out of these coveralls,” you quipped, certain that your smudged cheeks were now a rosy shade of crimson. 

He took the cigar back from you and put the book down, leaning closer to you, positioning his knee between yours, forcing you to spread your legs. He smoked, filling the space between you, taking another drag for himself, breathing in and breathing out, trying to test the waters,

“Care to show me now?”

You met his smoldering gaze. The tip of his cigar had nothing on the glow from behind his eyes. He was poised and ready to pounce, a lion on a lamb. 

You didn’t answer him. You simply watched as he unzipped your work coveralls and let the sleeves slink down your arms. You pulled them free, revealing what was underneath. You were braless, letting your heavy tits lay unbound in the soft fabric of your ribbed tank, preferring comfort over fashion. 

His hand came up to cup your cheek, rubbing some of the smudged oil with his thumb. He leaned forward even further, breathing heavily with you, panting like he had run for miles, all for the sole purpose of brushing your sensitive bottom lip with his own, teasing you with your own taste, hungry for your body and ready to consume you in every way he knew how. 

He began to kiss you slowly, languidly, as if you were both trapped in some world of slow motion where time need not exist. You need not be bothered with the past or the future. The present was enough, and it stretched between you forever. Each kiss deeper than the last, each touch more sensual, making your breath catch in your chest. 

John pulled away from you, slowly untangling himself, looking at you as if he had been keeping some smoldering question inside of his chest. He moved so slowly, telegraphing his motions so you would know his intent. Rapt, you watched his hand drop to the hem of your tank, his thick fingers dancing along the seam, carefully pulling it away so that his warm hand could slide underneath. 

Your whole body shuddered as his palm spread across your soft belly. His callused hands were rough against your skin, and the way he grabbed at you, greedy yet slow and savoring, made you feel like he had hypnotized you. You were frozen in place, submitting to his desire. 

He looked up into your eyes, checking with you to see if you would allow him to venture further and then moving further anyway, unable to quell his lurid hunger. His fingers found the swell of your breast, the heavy flesh hanging like ripe, sweet fruit, ready to be tasted. A thumb slipped across your nipple, encouraging it to tighten into a little peak, just plump enough to fit into his wet mouth. 

Without lifting your shirt off of you, he bent his head and suckled on your taut nipple through its fabric. He wet the cloth and your skin, and when he pulled his mouth away, the dampness lingered, teasing you with the memory and lingering on you, chilling your flesh. Another swipe of his thumb and you heard yourself let out quiet little mewls, whining and needy. His immediate, chuffed grin made you blush with shame. 

So, you took your revenge. You reached your hand across the supple leather of his riding pants and found the tip of his fat cock hanging trapped and turgid halfway down his muscular thigh. You used your finger to draw tiny circles around his head, knowing he could feel it. To your satisfaction, his eyes fluttered closed, lost in the sensation. 

Then, his hands plundered under your top, scrunching the fabric up to your collar, revealing your skin to him. As you messaged his heavy cock, you watched him sigh as he admired your curves, drinking you in like a desert palm, his hard root stretching towards its oasis. 

“Take me out, love. Please,” he begged you softly, kissing you between his gentle whispering words, and you knew what he wanted. 

You yanked at his button to pop it off, and you pinched at the zipper, listening to the metallic whir of its teeth as you freed him. 

He wasn’t wearing anything under his leathers, which drove you wild. He must have been so sensitive during his ride, feeling every bit of the garment’s texture and folds as he straddled his machine. 

You reached for him and he let out a dark groan. His voice became threatening all at once, and he grabbed at you with all of his might, drawing your attention with his words,

“Both hands… ungh, ahh, please. Please touch me with both of your hands, love.”

There was plenty of his length for you to comply, and even with both of your hands, his swollen, rigid girth was still a challenge to manage. You focused on his head, watching as his whole body responded to your touch.

John pulled you in for another kiss, forcing his tongue down your throat, filling your mouth with his heat, crushing you to his chest, abandoning all of his earlier tenderness in favor of lustful fury. 

As he ravaged your mouth, you felt his cock slipping through your hands on its own and you realized that he was using his hips to thrust himself through your grip. You tried to help him, matching his pace, but that only spurred on his carnal want. 

He was moaning into your mouth, and you could feel the hum of his joy against your lips. With each shameless thrust, he cried for you in that dark brimstone timbre, aching and full of longing. 

“John…” you whispered, breaking away to catch your breath, saying his name like a prayer. 

Adding to the drama, a long peal of thunder shattered the sky, killing the lights in your shop. But, you were both so worked up by one another, the shock of a blown fuse paled in comparison, and your eyes stayed locked on each other’s, bound together, unable to look away. Unwilling. 

But, he paused, staring at you, wanting something from you, something more. 

You gasped when he lifted you, rumpled clothes and all, right off the couch. He shouldered the door to the tiny room and walked quickly to his bike sitting you sideways on the seat. You braced yourself with one hand on the tank and one on the tail, waiting for his next whim. 

He was working on your clothes, peeling off your coveralls and shucking off your layers until he found your panties. When he saw the fabric, he paused. You fretted for a moment until you felt the cool, stormy wind blow across the damp gusset. Then, you knew what he was looking at. You were soaking through your panties, and there he was, transfixed on the darkening stain. 

“Wanna taste you, love. Want you in my mouth…” 

John fell to his knees in a flash, his cock still free and flagging up and down, wet with his precome. You squirmed a bit, unsure of your scent and your sweat from your earlier work. 

Those gentle eyes had been replaced with a sinister warning. He pinned you with them as if to say, move away and I’ll bloody drag you back. 

He didn’t bother to kiss the softness of your belly nor your thighs. He wanted one thing, but you didn’t expect him to take you quite like this. He didn’t peel down your panties, instead eating you right through the thin cotton, sucking on the wet cloth and making lewd squelching noises, lapping his tongue over your soaking lips and sucking at your flavor with his eager lips.

“Oh, shit…” You lamented, feeling your body go slack, submitting to him and his power. 

“Fuck…” He said between bites of his meal, “You’re so sweet… Let me… ungh, fuckin’ hell…”

He used his thumb to tug the fabric aside, revealing your gleaming pink flesh. And when he tasted you, skin on skin, John became obsessed. He was pushing his strong jaw so hard into you, working you with his mouth, making you rake your fingers through his hair just to hold onto something, you were afraid the bike might tip. 

In one ruthless motion, he tore your panties from you, ripping the sides and tucking the ruined fabric into his fist. Then, he put that same hand on his cock and began to jerk himself off, rubbing your wet cloth all over his cockhead. 

With his free hand, he grabbed the handlebar of the bike, pulling it down towards him, preventing it from falling, now able to eat you with as much reckless abandon as he liked. 

His mouth moved in long, deep thrusts, fucking you with his scruffy face, suckling at the hardening body of your clit. His tongue pressed into your swollen lips, moving between them with forceful need. As he licked you, he moved lower and lower towards your wet hole, hoping to thrust his writhing muscle inside of you, wanting nothing more than to lick you dry. 

Finally, he reached it, and the tip of his tongue slipped into your pussy, pressing through your slit and fucking you like his cock wanted to. You heard him elicit a gravelly, smoldering whine when he tasted your smooth center, and you watched as his eyes rolled back in his head, his brow furrowing in disbelief. 

Meanwhile, the rain pounded in the open garage doorway, swirling and spitting under its ebon shroud. John cared very little about it, nor did he care that you and he were nearly naked, in full view of the street. The idea that anyone could drive up and see you there, caught in his jaws, made you lose control. 

You tried to hold your voice down, but once he felt you start to come, he did everything he could to set you ablaze. His hand abandoned the handlebar, preferring instead to sink two of his large fingers inside of you, working with his tongue to stretch you open, giving him more of your ripeness to devour. 

You keened like you were on fire, and maybe you were. You thought, as the flames licked up your legs and down your arms, that maybe you would burn right up. Maybe you were a flare, ready to sear a bright scorching light through his mouth, burning his throat like whiskey, brutal and cruel. 

Your whole body had given in to the feeling as if you were an orchestra at the mercy of its conductor. If he wanted your kindling to catch, it would, and you would burn for him. You were his opus, trapped in a perpetual crescendo of his lust, an expression of his own fiery fate. 

His mouth only left your body to cry out in his own right, growling out a breathless groan as he spilled his come into your panties, smearing his cock through his own emission and mixing it with yours. 

Unable to maintain your balance, and unwilling to jeopardize his bike, you sank to the floor with him, feeling the cold concrete on your shins. John tugged you into his lap, panting into your neck, smelling strongly of your scent, his face and beard shining with it. 

You breathed together, fondling what you could reach, cradling each other as if you’d found one another again after years apart. Penelope clutching at her Odysseus, recognizing him through a sea of lesser men. 

“You alright, love?” John asked, still catching his breath, petting your cheek absentmindedly. 

You nodded, affirming your well-being,

“Mmhm. You?”

“Aye,” he smiled, laughing quietly to himself, “But, now you’ve gone and done it.”

“What?” You smiled, enjoying his joy. 

“Didn’t think runnin’ from the rain would be such a fuckin’ good time. Now, when it rains, I’ll be craving you.”

You smiled at him, letting him kiss your neck and cheek, planting his affection like little promises, deep under your skin. 

“You’re always welcome back, rain or shine.”

“How about tonight at six; dinner at my flat?” He looked up at you, hopeful. 

“As long as I get to ride this bike, it’s a date,” you teased. 

He raised his eyebrows at your challenge, and then he gave you a lascivious grin,

“Don’t worry, love. I’ve got just the ride in mind.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated!

AO3 Link

[cardansriddle]

"You know how to ball, I know Aristotle" - (tom riddle x fem!reader)

Summary: Tom finds himself harbouring a small crush on the Slytherin Chaser.

Warnings: None, just pure fluff. As always, not proofread, so apologies for any mistakes.

A/N: First post in months, hi, hello, I'm alive!!! This one is heavily inspired by the lyrics "you know how to ball, I know Aristotle" from so high school by taylor swift (obviously). And we all know Tom is the nerd in any scenario.

༻♛༺

The players soared through the azure sky, their movements orchestrated with precision and grace as the game began. Quidditch had never held any allure for Tom; he deemed it brutish and an unworthy diversion from his personal pursuits. After all, he would rather spend his hours on research to further his magical skills, become the most powerful wizard of all time and accomplish his one ultimate life ambitions.

Yet he had been dragged to the game by his persistent, relentless Knights. Half of them had already taken to the field, while the remainder bellowed raucous cheers from the stands. That is, if one could call creative chants being hurled at the Gryffindor team cheering.

With a disdainful curl of his lip, Tom reached for the book nestled at his side, fully intending to pass the time by reading. Yet, before he could even read a word, a chorus of gasps pierced the air, followed by a rush of wind that tousled his dark locks. Startled, he glanced skyward, just in time to witness one of the Chasers of his house team swooping gracefully to intercept the Quaffle hurtling towards an unsuspecting bystander behind him.

She shot a cheeky smirk at whoever she had just saved before gliding away. Something within Tom stirred—an unexpected surge of fascination seized hold of his senses and he found himself tracking her every movement with a newfound intensity. For a moment his scholarly mind analysed her movements with the same meticulous scrutiny he applied to his studies. She moved with a fluidity that seemed to defy the laws of gravity, her every manoeuvre executed with a finesse that demanded attention.

As her lithe form weaved through the chaos of the game, Tom couldn't help but lean forward to pay attention to the game. He was transfixed, his gaze glued on her as she scored a goal after goal.

"See! I told you Quidditch was fun!" Orion Black exclaimed from next to him, hand moving to pat Tom on his back before realising who he was speaking to and forgoing the action all together.

Tom did not bother acknowledging the boy.

The game came to an end as the Slytherin Seeker deftly caught the snitch after a particularly intense dive, and soon enough the entire crowd of students were rushing to congratulate the victorious team. Just like that, Tom was snapped out of his daze. He gathered his belongings and decided to leave.

༻♛༺

The party in honour of the Slytherin team was in in full swing by the time Tom set foot in the common room. He cursed under his breath as he navigated the crowded space, desperate to retreat to his dormitory and escape the chaos that engulfed the room.

Pushing his way through the throng, he passed by the large emerald couch when his eyes caught sight of her. She sat with her friends in a small circle, an amused smirk playing on her lips. The boisterous energy of the celebration seemed to ripple around her. Tom's ears perked up as someone called her name, attempting to draw her attention. He quickly noted the name, etching it into his mind with the same precision he used for memorizing spells.

"It's your turn!"

She waved a hand in dismissal. "I'm good."

"Oh come on! It is not fair for you to give out the most ridiculous dares then run away when it's your turn. Come on, don't be a coward!" Her friend goaded.

"Perhaps if I were a Gryffindor I would be insulted." she replied with a shrug. Despite her nonchalance, her friends’ uproarious protest began to wear down her resolve. Tom could see the determination flicker in her eyes before she finally relented. "Okay, fine! I will play this once!"

"Truth or dare?"

Tom resisted the urge to scoff at the ridiculously childish game they were partaking in. He should have left right then, but he could not deny that something tugged at his curiosity despite his best efforts to remain aloof.

"Dare."

"What happened to you were not a Gryffindor?"

"I'm just trying to determine if I would be a lousy one or not."

Her friend’s eyes narrowed in thought, clearly plotting the perfect dare. Tom was about to move away when her friend's eyes landed on him, and he saw them sparkle in mischief. He was quick to turn away, pretending he could not hear them.

Just as the girl was announce the dare, a couple crashed into him in their impatience to get through, fingers weaved together, jostling Tom and forcing him to step aside. He grimaced as they hurried past, clearly headed for the dorm rooms. When he turned his attention back to the group, he noticed with a start that the girl had disappeared.

Trying ignore the bizarre pit of disappointment in his stomach, he turned on his heel to head up to his room for the night. He had already lingered more than enough. Just as he turned, another figure crashed straight into his chest. With a string of colourful curses under his breath, he automatically grabbed to steady the person. Tom had lost all his patience, and he was about to snap with something mean when his gaze landed on the Slytherin Chaser.

Whatever sharp words he’d been preparing evaporated in an instant. His focus shifted entirely to the pair of wide, doe-like eyes staring up at him innocently. Too innocently. His instincts told him it spelled trouble.

"Oh, Riddle! I'm sorry, I tripped over my own feet." She said with a sheepish smile, a feigned apology dancing on her lips. Tom narrowed his eyes. She was an athlete, her entire existence on the pitch was defined by her precision and grace. He knew well enough she wasn’t the type to stumble over her own feet.

He opened his mouth to retort but she beat him to it. "Did you watch the game today?"

"Yes," he responded curtly, his gaze never leaving hers, trying to decipher her game.

"Really? I thought you never attended the games. Well, what did you think of it?"

The corner of Tom's lip curled as he replied. "First and last time. Your Quaffle almost disfigured my face."

She raised a brow. "No, the ball almost disfigured Adrian. Your charming smile was in no danger, I assure you."

"My charming smile, yeah?"

A delicate blush crept up her cheeks, turning them a pretty shade of pink under his teasing gaze that she was trying—and failing—to conceal. Tom felt a wave of smug satisfaction at the reaction he had drawn from her. Slowly, he twirled his wand between his long fingers, savoring the moment, letting the tension simmer in the air between them. His movements were slow, deliberate, before he lifted her chin ever so slightly with the tip of the wand, the cool wood brushing against her skin.

"Well, in any case, congratulations on your victory," he murmured, his voice low as he held her gaze firmly in his. "Disfigured smile or not." Then, with the faintest smirk tugging at his lips, Tom broke away to walk past her, heading toward the dormitory.

He was halfway across the common room when a sudden shout rang out amidst the loud crowd.

"Tom!" Her voice rang out, and just as he was about to glance over his shoulder, a hand reached out and grabbed his wrist, turning him around with unexpected force. His brows knit in confusion as he looked down at her, words forming in his mind but never reaching his lips. Before he could react, her arms were around his neck, pulling him down in one swift motion. Her lips crashed against his, bold and unapologetic, her kiss catching him entirely off guard.

Tom stood frozen, momentarily stunned, every thought, every calculated plan vanishing in the instant their lips met. For a man who prided himself on control, it was the first time in a long while that he felt completely unmoored. The kiss, with its suddenness and intensity, left him reeling in ways he hadn't deemed possible.

He tuned out the instant cheers and whistles breaking out in a wave of noise at the display, his thoughts consumed only by the soft lips moving over his own.

But the moment was over a moment far too soon. her breath uneven, eyes gleaming with nerves. Tom’s heart, which had betrayed him for just a moment, slowly began to settle back into its steady rhythm.

She bit her lip, a sly smile forming as she met his gaze again. "Sorry… I was dared to do that," she said, almost apologetically.

Tom’s expression didn’t falter, but a flicker of irritation crossed his mind. The kiss, the boldness—it had not been her choice. “Of course,” he replied coolly, his voice measured as he ran a hand through his hair. "A dare.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, Tom leaned in just enough to let his words hang in the air between them, lips brushing against her cheek, his voice low and filled with a subtle challenge. “Then… I dare you,” he began, his gaze locked on hers with a teasing intensity, “to do it again.”

He smirked as her eyes widened, clearly caught off guard by his response. Her gaze flickered to his lips for just a second before she pulled back, her smirk widening. "Careful what you wish for, Tom. You might regret it.”

"Only if it results in your Quaffle flying at my face again."

"If you refrain from reading your book at my game, I promise to keep it away from your vicinity next time." She rolled her eyes, but before either of them could speak again, she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him again, this time softer, slower, the lingering laughter fading into something sweeter.

[trixisbored]

Enchanted wings.

james potter x reader (oneshot)

James didn’t know what hit him.

Well, he did actually. It was the bludger that he did not see coming because he was too busy staring at Y/N.

James felt himself slipping off his broom from the sheer force of the bludger, causing everyone watching to gasp in despair, except the Slytherins which they were playing against, they were probably reveling in the way that he was desperately trying to get back on his broom, slipping inch by inch. He looked at the ground in panic. A fall from this height would earn him some broken bones and maybe a whole season without quidditch.

Y/N was watching from the stands of Griffyndor, she had always been a fan of Quidditch since she used to watch it with her family all the time. But since 5th year her interest has been even more piqued because of a certain chaser. 

James Potter, the mischievous but golden boy of Gryffindor, always hanging out with his little group, the Marauders. She had started noticing him in 5th grade, she was trying to get her book back from an annoying slytherin boy, until James Potter walked by.

“Hey, leave her alone.” He said, closing in on the boy's face and taking the book from his grasp. James towered over the smaller boy as he ran away. He turned around 

“Here!” He had such a cute smile…

 Y/N felt a blush rise to her cheeks, she grabbed the book and starting to walk back to class when James grabbed her wrist 

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t catch your name? I’m James. James Potter.” Y/N paused surprised,

 “Oh, uh. I’m Y/N L/N. And thank you, I didn’t mean to be rude but I’m really late for class.”

 “Oh? What have you got right now?” And oh, that smirk.

“Transfiguration, have you got that as well? I noticed you were walking that way?”

“Yeah, I was headed there, but now that you’re here might as well give me some company, don’t you think?” He chuckled, and Y/N nodded as they began walking to class.

And that was that, they formed a kind friendship where Y/N she wanted something more, but she valued her friendship too much to have the possibility to ruin it.

“JAMES!” Y/N shouted from the stands, time seemed to slow down for her as she watched him fall, though on the last second she was brought back to her senses as she cast a levitating spell at his robes hoping that it would break his fall. It worked for a bit but then she heard a sickening crush as James collided with the ground.

“Oh my god…” She ran to the field and saw a crowd of team members surrounding him, she burst through it and saw him with his eyes closed groaning in pain. Y/N kneeled by him and took his face in her hands “James?”

“...Darling?” One of his eyes fluttered open and those gorgeous brown eyes stared back at her

“Yes, it’s me… We’re going to take you to Madam Pomfrey, ok?” She said looking at someone behind her silently asking someone to call the nurse.

“Yeah, I think I need her… ow.” He says trying to sit up

“Lay back down!” She said gently placing him back

The first thing James saw when he woke up was the distinct ceiling of the hospital wing, he felt like he was trampled by a Hippogriff, his left arm was constricted in a cast and he felt some bandages in his legs, but what was weird was the pressure in his right hand, though as he turned to look, what he saw was Y/N napping on his arm.

That did not look comfortable. At all…

“Hey sweetheart.” He whispered gently “Had a good nap?” He grinned

“James! You’re awake!” She says, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes “What happened out there?! I’ve never seen you so distracted in the field before…” She questioned. His eyes softened 

“Y/N,” James began, his voice soft yet filled with sincerity, “I need to tell you something. Something I should've said a long time ago.”

He gently lifted her hand from where it rested on his chest, his eyes never leaving hers. “I was distracted out there because of you, I love you, Y/N. You're more than just a friend to me. You're everything.”

He paused, waiting for her reaction, hoping that she felt the same way. “I know I've been a fool for not saying it sooner. Please, tell me you feel it too.”

Y/N's heart swelled with emotion at James's confession. She felt a rush of joy and relief flood through her veins “James,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “I... I love you too. More than you could ever know.” She reached out to cup his cheek tenderly, her fingers tracing the lines of his face as if she couldn't quite believe he was real. “Can I kiss you?”

“You don’t even have to ask.” He smiled as they shared their first kiss.

[not-rab]

“FUCK!”

A bludger skimmed the side of James’ head, brushing past a few of his unruly, brown curls.

He looked around to find where the ball came from, a Slytherin beater - was Crouch his name? - smirked back at him.

James returned the grin with a less than friendly gesture from his middle finger.

Crouch just kept smiling, the fucker, and nodded his head upward, indicating a threat coming from behind the Gryffindor.

This time, he didn’t have time to swear.

Another bludger, or perhaps it was the same one, was flying towards James at a terrifying speed.

He heard it before he saw it, the familiar hiss as it tried to demount players from their brooms.

Fortunately, the chaser had the sense to urge the broomstick upwards before the damn quidditch ball could pierce through his ribs.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t reached enough of a height, and the bludger landed at the tail of his broom, knocking his balance all over the place.

James could faintly hear a yell coming from someone, it sounded like they were saying “Prongs” - ah, must be Sirius then.

James leaned forward, clutching on the wood, but without the second half of his broomstick, he couldn’t do anything except for keep hold.

And then, he let go.

The sweat from the anticipation of the game, mixed with the loss of uprightness he’d experienced with the broom breaking, had loosened his grip.

In the end, he was blindly reaching out for his broom which was left five metres higher than him.

“JAMES!”

Someone else was screaming now, but the Gryffindor barely heard it over his own shouts.

And… cheers?

Then someone, he assumed a professor maybe, had uttered a braking spell on him, to soften the fall.

“Hey,” as soon as James landed on the ground, still bewildered as to what had gone wrong, his best friend joined him.

“Pads?” “Mhm, you alright?”

“I think? Why- ” the chaser shook his head, making sense of the situation, “Oh.”

A scoreboard, red on one side, green on the other, read out “60 to 180: Slytherin Victory”.

“Yeah,” Marlene, another member of the Gryffindor quidditch team, and one of James’ closest friends, nodded, “I went for the snitch but noticed your fall midway through.”

“Baby Black got it,” Marlene shrugged, “Next time, eh?”

“Fuck,” James let the “k” sound ring on longer than needed.

“Potter,” Minnie’s - Professor McGonagall’s - voice was anxious, “Let’s take you to Madam Pomfrey, you suffered quite the fall.”

“I’m okay, you stopped the fall pretty well.”

McGonagall tried to argue back, but another set of feet landed on the ground before she could do so.

His silhouette was outlined by the setting sun in the background, hair awfully pristine as though he hadn’t been flying for half and hour at least by now.

“Potter,” this tone was a lot colder, his silver-grey eyes looking up and down, seeming to decided himself whether James was okay.

The Slytherin captain, also Sirius’ little brother, dropped the newly-caught snitch in his opponent’s hands, “Rematch.”

He picked up his broom, walking away without another word.

Silence followed for another few seconds, and then, “Well. That was something.”

James didn’t know how to reply.

[bigbigtruck]

SWEET ABILENE PDF IS NOW AVAILABLE!!

44 pages of pining, goofs, love, anxiety, lettering fun, and things that if I spell out may get this post hidden.

Print version will be funded via Kickstarter preorder starting later this week.

[theprenderelliepalace]

A Simple Christmas

°•°*°•°

James Potter x Reader

Tags: Enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, slow burn, Christmas fluff, unrequited love, angst/fluff, GRYFFINDOOR QUIDITCH Y'ALL

Summary: You and James Potter have been rivals since first year, but a Quidditch incident in your fourth year brings you closer. Spending Christmas at the Potter's, you realize your feelings for James might be more than just rivalry. With a little holiday magic, you discover that sometimes love is hidden in the most unexpected places

Warnings: Minor injury, mild language, slight angst (concerned reader), tensions...

Words: 2.7k

°•°*°•°

You started the tradition of Christams at the Potter's in fourth year.

It was an unlikely thing for you to agree to, seeing as you hated James Potter's guts from the moment you bumped into him on the Express in first year.

He was rude, loud, arrogant and the most devious 11 year-old you'd ever had the displeasure of meeting.

And then he grew up...

He and his gang of Mauraders were always the talk of the school, "Potter this- Potter that." "Oh,did you hear about Potter's latest prank? It was brilliant!" You began to detest him with even greater passion. It certainly didn't help, in third year when you both tried out for the Gryffindoor Quiditch team. He was a great Seeker- you'd give him that- yet, every time you won a match, you couldn't help the strange sensation of emotions that would fill your chest and cloud your eyes.

He was so, easy, everything was easy for James Potter. Talking, smiling, laughing. You started to notice everything about him and suddenly that became easy too. He would do something funny and outrageous and you'd catch yourself staring. He'd make a quip at you, you'd fire back and you'd find yourself laughing. Smiling even!

Then every day, you'd tell yourself, 'this has to stop.' Or, 'pull yourself together, Y/n! We hate him! He's a foul example of Gryffindoor overconfidence, he's a lousy classmate. He couldn't spell the word reliable with the help of the Imperious Curse!' And then you'd stop short and sigh, and watch the way he talked to her.

Lily Evans was beautiful, she was the "most talented witch of her age," Professor Dippet would praise after every assignment. She was smart, she was vibrant. Everything James Potter could want. In fact he did, he'd wanted her from the very moment he'd seen her on that train. He'd bumped into you to get to her.

Was that why you hated him? Because he'd chosen her over you? You shook your head at the thought. No. Of course not, you'd both made your beds with those very first insults on that train. That's how it was and how it would always be.

Until it wasn't...

°•°*°•°

It was the first match of the term in your fourth year. Tensions were high. Slytherin vs. Gryffindoor. Everyone was on edge to get one over on the other house. You had to admit, you were feeling strung pretty high to win this particular game. And it was not happening.

You groaned from your broom as you listened to Sirius Black narrate yet another goal for Slytherin over the loud speaker with slew of curses flying off as rapidly as he could come up with them. You caught a brief glance of the new Transfigurations teacher, Professor McGonagall, snatch the microphone from him and tell him off with such sterness, you could understand why the infamous trouble causer was cowering in the stands.

You stole yourself from the scene and focused on the task at hand. A fellow Gryffindoor Chaser was flying for you, fast, you steadied yourself on your broom and prepared to take the Quaffle. You snatched it at lightning speed, taking off to the other end of the pitch, the Slytherin Chasers caught in your dust. You scored. "10 points to Gryffindoor!" Black shouted.

Good, you were tied now. You spun around, you jumped as something hurtled past you and downwards to the field. You heard the roars of the crowd before you could make out what it was. "Potter's got the snitch!" Sirius bellowed. The Gryffindoors were chanting Potter's name before you could even steady your broom. You were smiling at him.

He was holding the snitch in his hand, waving it around in triumph. "Way to go Potter!" You called down to him. He looked up at you, grinning at you lopsidedly.

"That a compliment Y/l/n?" You shook your head at him playfully.

"Don't let it go to you'd head!" His grin widened.

"Not like that would-" You couldn't hear the rest of his sentence before you looked around to find a Slytherin Beater 30 feat away, her bat raised over her shoulder and the bludger she'd hit, flying straight at you. All you could comprehend was the searing pain in your head as it made impact. You slid off your broom ... it was all so hazy... someone caught you... someone was saying your name... and then came the darkness.

°•°*°•°

You woke up with a searing headache and foggy vision. -"concussion Mr Potter. You must leave my patient to recover."

"But it's been days Madame Pomfrey. Shouldn't she be awake?" You couldn't quite make out the owner of the voice, your ears were buzzing like a colony of pixies were fluttering around in there. You made a guess though and when you gingerly opened an eye, the first thing you saw was his shaggy mop of black hair cascading over his worried face.

Worried? Why should he be worried about you? He hated you, right. Right? Then you listened to his voice, the pleading tone and lilt of angst. It was so unlike the boy you'd spent four years getting to know that you were taken aback. You felt the urge to make fun of him by saying something clever, instead you just groaned and your smirk turned into a grimace. "Y/n!"

He was by your side in a flash, or perhaps you'd just blinked really slowly. While Madame Pomfrey fussed over you, you listened to him talk. -" and then, that skeevy brat, she had the gall to pretend to be sorry when the ref told her off. Of course, the Captain was furious and he spent an hour and a half trying to disqualify them from the whole season. It's a pity we've got a Slytherin flying coach this year, else he totally wouldn't have allowed them to play after you'd got hurt." James shook his head like the very notion disgusted him. "But, I think their Beater, Doldra Macconal, she'll find herself a nice little surprise tomorrow morning." He smiled devilishly. Perhaps it was the ointment that Madame Pomfrey had put over your bruises that turned your face bright red but suddenly you felt very hot.

Madame Pomfrey bustled away to fetch a clean cloth and this gave you time to think. "Wait, who caught me after I fell? I would've had a few more broken bones than this if I just fell off my broom." It was the first time you'd actually spoken, your voice sounded foreign in your throat and you jumped slightly. James looked at you sympathetically for a moment before your question sunk in. You watched him curiously as his cheeks pinkened and a bashful look fluttered over his face.

"Well, you just fell, like, clean off your broom. And- and I was right there, so..." He seemed much to embarrassed to continue. So you finished for him. He nodded sheepishly. You smiled at him, even though it hurt and asked, "What'dya mean Macconnel will find a surprise tomorrow morning?" You glared at him more sternly, "James, what did you do?" He gafawed at you.

"I think that's the first time you've called me by my name." You looked surprised at him, even he seemed surprised. Then you both burst into laughter.

You chatted for what seemed like hours after that, going back and forth between the match and the gossip around Hogwarts while you'd been out. But after a painstakingly short 20 minutes, Madame Pomfrey shooed James out of the hospital wing. He glanced back at you with a sad smile. You tried to smile back, it didn't go very well, but he got the message.

When you got out of the hospital that seemed to be it. You, James Potter and his Marauding gang became inseparable after that. It was like all you needed to do was talk to him and suddenly you were head over heels- no! No way!

°•°*°•°

The train was bustling with students all heading home for the holidays. You stood on the platform, proudly suiting your 6th year status and watching the first years fondly as they lept onto the train. "Watcha thinking 'bout Y/n/n?" You smiled at James as he came to stand beside you. He heaved his luggage in front of him with a disgruntled huff.

"Hmm, just when we started being friends. Hey, what did you actually do to Macconnel after she bludgered me? I never actually asked." James laughed his hearty laugh that you'd come to love. You shook your head, stop it, you scolded yourself.

"Oh Goddric,it was so great. But id forgotten 'bout it. We gave her a right scare." He smiled fondly at the memory.

"It's creepy that you think about it with that kind of smile on your face." You stepped onto the train, dragging your trunk after you.

"Oi! What's that? What's wrong with my face?" He followed after you.

"I think she means you look right ugly Prongsy." Came Sirius's lilting voice from a nearby cabin. You laughed as you shoved past him, the two of you exchanging mischievous glances.

"Listen to Pads, James. He has a point." You stuck your tongue out at him, deciding to drop the Macconnel story. He glowered back at you. He heaved his trunk onto the top shelf, turning to you and so naturally lifting yours up, taking it from your hands. Your stomach did summersaults as your fingers brushed. Sirius chuckled. You spun on him and did a wild shushing motion with your full upper body. This only made him fully laugh.

James turned. "Eh, what's funny now?" Sirius held his hands up in mock surrender at your furious glare.

"Nothing, nothing mate. Swear it." He slumped down onto the seat closest to the window, leaving just enough room for you and James to sit achingly close together on the opposite bench. You felt like hexing him, but you supposed James would notice and ask what all the fuss was about. He wasn't that dense.

You elected to change the subject. "Moony not coming this year?" James and Sirius sighed in unison.

"Nope. Burried his nose so deep in the library's books I'm worried he'll turn into one before we get back after the holidays." Sirius answered. You scoffed.

"Oh please, he's so prepared for our N.E.W.T.S next year, even McGonagall is telling him to give it a rest."

"I know!" Both the boys exclaimed in unison. "Where's Wormtail though?" James asked the reclining nuisance of a wizard taking up half the cabin. Sirius shrugged.

"Dunno. Says your mummy scares him. Decided to stay and 'keep Remus alive.' Whatever that means."

The train ride back to the Potter's was usually your favorite part of the holiday, but so close to Prongs, you might as well have burst into flames where you sat. "You okay, Y/n/n?" Your very oblivious crush asked.

"Yeah." You cleared your throat. "Yep, just fine Prongs." You squeaked. Black sniggered. You threw your shoe at him.

"Hey!"

°•°*°•°

It was an hour to midnight, an hour 'til Christmas and you were wandering the Potter house in the dead of night. The absence of sleep very obvious. You sighed as you found yourself, yet again, in the living room. You plodded over to the fireplace, where the dying embers crackled soothingly. You sank down with a thud and a heavy sigh, curling your blanket around you.

A dawning realization had struck you about 3 hours ago and it was churning your insides like sticky taffy, getting stuck in your every waking thought. You were in love with James Potter. This morning, mind you, you'd mearly thought you'd liked him and then he smiled at you- really smiled- and you knew.

And it was the most impossible thought you'd ever had. He loved someone else, someone much better than you. He maybe didn't deserve her, but he certainly had more of a shot with her than you did with him. He was your best friend! Loving him was like loving your pet Grindylow until it bites your hand off. You didn't want your friendship to be at stake, it was the last thing you wanted to think about, but here you were; thinking about it.

"Y/n?" Came his groggy voice from the stairs landing.

"Yeah Jamie?" Whoops, that just slipped out. Obviously he didn't notice because he came and sat beside you. You watched him rub the sleep from his eyes and yawn. He put his hands out in front of the fire and shuddered.

"It's bloody cold down here. Why're you still up?" You shrugged. Tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear. The firelight made his cheeks look redder than usual.

"Lots to think about. Why're you still up?" You mimicked. He glanced away.

"I've been thinking; there's this girl-"

"Yeah, yeah, Prongsy, Lily, the light of your life. Let's assume I've probably heard it before." You felt your heart tug painfully.

"When have you heard me talk about Evans like that?" He accused.

"Uhm, all these long, harrowing years that I've known you?" You shot back.

"Harrowing. Huh." He huffed. Looking affronted. You smiled at him softly. Bumping your shoulder against his.

"Sorry Jamie." It happened again, but you didn't really mind.

"See there you go again!" He shouted, standing up. You were following him before you knew it. Your blanket falling to the floor.

"Shh! Shh!" You pointed to the ceiling, warning him about waking his parents. He shook his head.

"You're bossing me around and it's driving me crazy!" He whisper-yelled. "You're- you're calling me these sweet little nicknames. You're brushing my hair out of my face, you're worried about me when I get hurt on the Pitch. And Merlin Y/n, the way you look at me..." He softened now, "The way you look at me just makes me..."

"Crazy?" You finished. Your heart was beating out of your chest. There was a glimmer of something there, but you couldn't let it be hope. He was looking at you dazedly through his square glasses, his hair ruffled and his lips softly parted. You could imagine the feel of them against yours.

He gulped. "Something like that." And then it clicked.

"In- in fourth year, when I'd just woken up in the hospital wing. I asked you, I asked you if you liked me or something, because you were acting so strangely... I just thought... but it was a joke!" You were whisper-yelling now. Frantic. "You replied and, and I didn't hear you... but you said that. You said-"

"Or something." You were both staring at each other. The tension so thick you couldn't cut it with a knife.

You shook your head. "You're in love with Evans!" He took a slow step towards you. "I'm not her, I could never be her. I wouldn't want to be."

"Good." He said as he reached you, he put a tender hand to your cheek. "Because I haven't thought about Lily Evans even half as much as I've ever thought about you. She couldn't hold a floating candle to you Y/n. Not in my head." The look in his eyes was so soft, so beseeching, that you just had to ask:

"Jamie, kiss me already?" And suddenly he was on you. His lips colliding with yours, melding into you. He felt so perfect, a piece of a puzzle snapping into place. He prodded your lips with his tongue, you eagerly obliged, your lips parting.

You both groaned into the kiss as he deepend it. You wrapped your arms around his neck, he leveraged your legs in his hands, guiding you to jump up and wrap your legs around his waist. You were just about to take his glasses off when-

"Bout bloody time. You know lovebirds, I couldn't stand one more bloody Christmas with you two pining after each other. I think Moony was going to implode if we had to see one more honey-eyed-"

"Sirius!" You both shouted. James let you out of his grasp, but he kept you firmly pinned to his chest.

"Sod off, you prat. We're busy." James growled.Padfoot waved an absent hand and turned to head back upstairs.

"Off I go. But Merry Christmas to the happy couple." He snickered. "Ooo, this is the best Christmas present ever! Those two back at Hogwarts are gonna be so mad!" He said with a singsong cheeriness that was much too righteous for 12 am. The clock struck midnight.

"Happy Christmas Y/n." James smiled at you warmly.

You kissed him again, running your hands through his tussled hair. "Merry Christmas Jamie." He picked you up again and you giggled at him. "You know what I want my Christmas present to be?"

"What, princess?" He asked with a lovesick smile.

"Be my boyfriend?" He beamed at you.

"Ask and you shall receive!" He threw you onto the couch, you shrieked and giggled as he followed suit. He shushed you, but it would be many hours before either of you were actually quiet.

°•°*°•°

A/n Yes! Okay, I know it's cannon divergent but I thought it was cute (and yes, probably getting hit square in the head with a bludger would blow your brain up, but I'm allowed some creative and magical liberties).

Requests/asks are open

Masterlist

[thenerdykneazle]

Wild Ride

Summary: You and Seb aren't on the best of terms in sixth year. He's desperate to get you to let him back into your life - to the point of inviting himself along on a trip to Clagmar Coast to get ingredients for Garreth's newest potion. The simple errand turns out to be much more dangerous than either of you could have anticipated.

Sebastian Sallow x M!MC

Another collab with the talented @darch7995 who turned this story into audios. Listen to part 1. I gave Rina a task with this one with all the fighting, and she killed it. If you've never heard her audios, you're missing out.

Warnings: violence, swearing, angst with a happy ending, reckoning with the Scriptorium b/c I'm still mad it's glossed over in the game lol

Word count: 6203

You stalked along the edge of the raised platform, scoping out the perfect angle. “Accio!” you said, dragging the blue stone towards you. You held on longer than normal. You released the spell, and the stone kept rolling. It smacked into a red one at the end of the court, which jolted forward – right off the platform and into the grass. The blue sphere slowed to a stop just before the edge, earning you another 50 points.

“Ugh! That’s the third game in a row,” Leander groaned.

“You really should stop going first,” you said, unable to hold back a chuckle.

Leander glared at you. “I should just stop playing,” he said hopelessly.

“Also a valid option,” you replied drily before smirking at him.

You grabbed your bag and sauntered off to head into the library to get some studying done for once.

“Hey, MC! Do you have a moment?” Garreth said as he jogged up to you.

“Sure. What’s up?” you replied as Garreth joined in step.

“I’ve got a favour to ask,” he said. “I need you to help me track down an ingredient.”

You sighed. “Yeah, okay. What is it this time?”

Garreth beamed at you. “You’re the best! It’s just knarl quills,” he said.

“Knarl quills? Seriously?” you interrupted, indignant. “Can’t you just buy some in Hogsmeade?”

“Normally, I would, but Brood & Peck is wiped out after Sharp’s lesson on Laughing Potion. It’ll take weeks for them to get new stock. But it gave me a brilliant idea for a new drink. I’m calling it Gigglewater. Imagine pairing a nice buzz from firewhisky with the euphoria of Laughing Potion! So…think you could get some quills for me?”

He looked at you with a hopeful expression.

“All right. I know where to find a den,” you said, resigning yourself to being an errand boy yet again. “But if this brew of yours works out, I expect a steady supply.”

“Brilliant!” Garreth said, clapping both hands on your shoulders. “You’ll have as much as you can drink, mate. I promise.”

Garreth bolted off to go prepare the rest of his ingredients. You picked up your pace to head inside before your to-do list could grow any longer. Before you’d taken ten steps, you were stopped by another voice.

“Oi! MC!” they called from across the grounds.

You turned to see Sebastian headed toward you with his broom slung over his shoulder.

“I’m headed to the pitch to get in some practice before Quidditch try-outs start next week. You want to join? Ominis mentioned you’re planning to go for chaser,” he said. He added under his breath, “Not sure why he knew before I did, but…”

“Oh,” you said uncomfortably. “I was just headed inside to study, actually. Got to finish that essay on bowtruckles for Howin. But you have fun.”

“Oh,” Sebastian said, crestfallen. He had been excited to practise with you – you never turned down a chance to fly. He’d also hoped a little rough-and-tumble play on the pitch might relieve some of the tension he felt around you lately. “Yeah, no problem. I suppose school does come first.” He forced a laugh. “So, what, uh…what did Garreth want?”

You assumed he had been aiming for a ‘casual’ tone with his question. He ended up sounding rather nervous. “Just help with another potion,” you said shortly.

“Oh, are you going into the forest?” he asked, eyebrows raising slightly. He stood his broom up on the ground, leaning on the handle. “Need a hand?”

“No, I’m fine, thanks,” you said with a tight smile.

“It’s no trouble,” Sebastian insisted with an annoying level of earnestness. “Besides, I can’t have my charge wandering through the woods alone.”

You rolled your eyes. “Professor Weasley put you in charge of me for one trip to Hogsmeade – a year ago. I can handle myself, thanks,” you said before turning to head inside.

“Wait!” Sebastian called as he shouldered his broom again and jogged after you. “I know you don’t need my help. I just thought it might be nice to hang out. It’s…been a while.”

“Has it?” you said, feigning ignorance. “I hadn’t noticed, really.”

“Are you cross with me about something?” Sebastian asked, grabbing your arm to stop you.

You pulled it back out of his grasp. “Maybe I’m just not in the mood to hang out,” you replied coolly, avoiding the question.

“Well, I could come with you to study,” Sebastian said. “I miss my friend.”

You gave a bitter laugh. “Is that what we are?” you asked as you crossed your arms over your chest in what you hoped was an imposing stance.

His brows drew together. “Don’t be ridiculous! Of course, we’re friends!” he asserted.

You flattened your mouth into a thin line and gave a disbelieving grunt. “I figured I was more of a useful acquaintance,” you replied.

“Are you actually joking?” Sebastian asked, gaping at you.

You sighed. “I don’t have time for this,” you said. “If you want to help, then fine. Meet me in the Room of Requirement at half 9.”

“Yeah, okay,” Sebastian said, looking like he wanted to say a lot more. “I’ll see you then.”

“Grand,” you said sarcastically.

That night, Sebastian arrived in the Room of Requirement at 9:35. “Sorry I’m late!” he said as he burst in. “Weasley was asking me all sorts of questions when she found me wandering the corridors. I swear that woman has an extra sense about when students are planning to sneak out.”

“It’s fine,” you said tersely. “We’ve got a long journey ahead, though. We should get going.” You checked your supply of potions again. You made sure Sebastian had a full set, too. Garreth had set you up with a large store of all sorts of potions, including a particularly strong form of the edurus potion. You had to admit that your partnership with the ginger was quite mutually beneficial.

“Is this what you did all the time last year?” Sebastian asked. “Sneaking out and running around the Highlands?”

You shrugged. “Basically,” you confirmed.

“No wonder you were always so exhausted,” he said. “I swear you had permanent bags under your eyes.”

You shot a glare at him. “Cheers, mate,” you said sarcastically.

“Not that you looked bad,” he assured you, hands raised in defence.

“Mhmm,” you said sceptically as you grabbed a handful of floo powder. You threw it into the little flame. “Clagmar Coast.”

You disappeared in a haze of flames and soot.

Sebastian sighed. “Smooth, Sallow. Real smooth,” he said to himself, shaking his head. He quickly went through the floo, as well.

He landed in a small cabin. It was cold, as the shabby building let the wind rolling off the sea slip through its many cracks. He pulled his cloak more tightly around himself as the two of you stepped out of the little hut and onto the beach. “Merlin, it’s freezing out here!” Sebastian groused.

“Yeah, that tends to happen when the sun goes down,” you snapped as you started down the beach.

“What is your problem lately?” Sebastian asked as he followed you.

Before you could answer, you heard a distant voice.

“I swear, every time we draw straws for patrol, I get the short one,” a man said.

“Hide!” you hissed in a low voice. You practically body-slammed Sebastian against the cabin, tucking yourselves just behind the chimney. As you did, Sebastian steadied himself with a hand on the wall and the other on the chimney, while you slapped your hand over his mouth so that he didn’t make noise. All he got out was a little “oof” as his back hit the stone wall.

You cast a nonverbal disillusionment charm over the both of you. Sebastian’s heart was racing. He genuinely wasn’t sure if it was due to the sudden presence of unfriendlies or your practically invisible body pressed against his in the near-perfect reverse of the position he so frequently desired to put you in lately.

You both heard the crunch of their footsteps on the sand as the two dark wizards approached.

“I don’t see why you’re complaining. Going on patrol’s more interesting than standing around at the camp,” a feminine voice replied as the footsteps continued to draw nearer.

“At least there aren’t dugbogs at the camp,” the man huffed. “That last one nearly took my eye out with that slimy tongue!”

Just then, Sebastian’s hand slipped as the brick he’d been holding came loose. He squeezed his eyes shut, wincing as it clattered against the rocky ground.

“What was that?” the woman asked.

“It came from over there!” the man replied.

“Bombarda!” the woman yelled.

Sebastian launched you both away from the cabin just before the spell hit the chimney you’d been hiding behind. It burst apart, sending dust and brick in every direction. Your disillusionment released as you tumbled across the damp sand before clambering to your feet.

“Stupefy!” you yelled, aiming for the man in front.

“Confringo!” Sebastian said just a split second slower.

The man, who was dressed in a soldier’s uniform, dodged your spell but was hit with Sebastian’s. He yelled in pain as the fiery curse burned his side. “You’ll pay for that!” he said.

The woman, an assassin, sent a slew of curses your way. You dodged and deflected, waiting for an opportunity to strike. Meanwhile, the soldier was locked in a duel with Sebastian.

“Time for some assistance,” the assassin said, aiming her wand at the ground.

Several inferi burst out of the sandy shoreline. They lunged for you. “Incendio!” you shouted. The ring of flames that erupted around you knocked them back. You levitated one before dispatching of another. A third clawed deep gashes into your back. As you whipped around, sending a blasting curse its way, the assassin hit you with a disarming charm.

The inferius crumpled in a burst of flames as your wand went flying. With your wand gone, the inferius you had levitated crashed back to the ground.

Sebastian finished off the soldier with a severing charm before summoning the remaining inferius away from you just as it lunged to attack. You dove into the sand, and just as you grasped your wand, the assassin attacked. “Petrificus totalus!”

The spell hit you as you were half-way to your feet. You could do nothing as you heard the assassin cry out, “Expulso!”

You were blasted back into the rocky cliffs that rose up from the sand behind the ruins of the cottage. You collided with a crunch before falling to the ground. Your lungs burned as you tried to replace the air that had been knocked out of them by the impact.

“Reducto!” Sebastian roared. A blue jet of light erupted from his wand. It arced through the air before striking the assassin in the chest. She shattered into ash – the sea breeze scattered her remains across the wet sand before the tide rinsed them away.

Sebastian turned to you, looking panic-stricken as he saw your crumpled form. Behind him, the soldier who lay bleeding on the beach raised his wand. You summoned your remaining strength, reaching deep inside to your connection to the ancient magic, and sent a nearby boulder soaring through the air before crashing it down on the man’s body. It collided with a sickening crunch as his bones splintered apart. His arm fell back to the earth. He didn’t move again.

Sebastian had watched the final blow with wide eyes. His attention quickly snapped back to you as you struggled to get back to your feet. He rushed over and grabbed your arm. “I’ve got you,” he said.

“I’m fine!” you bit out, ripping your arm from his grasp in a painful, jerking motion.

“I was just trying to help!” Sebastian said irritably.

“Yeah, well, you helped enough giving our position away by knocking that stone loose,” you said. You uncapped a wiggenweld and gulped it down. The ache in your side faded, and you were able to breathe easily again.

“You’re seriously blaming me for a loose rock?” he asked.

“It’s an old shack. You should’ve been more careful,” you argued. “Clearly it didn’t take much to bring down that chimney.” You gestured to the wreckage.

“Yes, well, we’ll certainly be needing a different way back to the castle,” Sebastian said bashfully.

“What an astute observation,” you said sarcastically. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “We should get going before anyone notices that two Ashwinders are missing. The knarl den is in a cave just west of here.”

You made haste up the rest of the coast, breathing a sigh of relief when you reached the mouth of the cave without incident. “Well, that’s inviting,” Sebastian said, noting all the warning signs and paintings of skulls and crossbones. “‘Turn back or perish.’ What more invitation do we need?”

“Oh, it’s not so bad inside,” you said. “Especially since all the poachers should be gone.”

“Any other surprises that might be awaiting us in there?” he asked.

“I mean, it’s a cave, so spiders are likely,” you said.

“Naturally,” Sebastian replied unenthusiastically. “I’ve been living arachnid-free for too long, anyway.”

You gave him a cheeky smile. “Look at you learning the difference between insects and arachnids,” you said with mock pride. “You studied over the summer didn’t you, you little bookworm?”

Sebastian gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “I’m so glad that Ashwinder didn’t knock that charming sense of humour out of you,” he said sarcastically.

“Come on, you grump,” you said. “I don’t want to be out all night.” You ducked into the cave, and he followed after you with a begrudging “fine.”

The first half of the trek into the cave was uneventful other than some cobwebs and egg sacks, both of which were easily burned away. Fortunately, there was no sign that any poachers currently occupied the cave. It was just damp corridors, jumping over crevices, and climbing ladders.

Sebastian groaned as you started up yet another ladder. It was even taller than the earlier ones. “You were just gallivanting through caves like this all the time on top of all the things we got up to together?” he asked.

You paused in your ascent. “Pretty much,” you confirmed. “That and helping Poppy to fight poachers and Natty to take down Harlow.”

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten that. Or all the errands you were running for other students – which, clearly, is one hobby you haven’t given up,” he said. He followed you up the ladder. He had to admit, all this climbing did come with the perk of some very nice views of your arse as the fabric of your trousers was pulled taught against it. You were waiting casually as Sebastian hauled himself up the last bit of the ladder. He doubled over, hands on his knees, as he caught his breath. “No wonder you’re so fit.”

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I-I mean, not fit fit, but actually fit,” he added quickly. “Not that you’re ugly, though! It’s just that you’re very, erm…athletic…is my point.”

You nodded slowly, resisting the urge to laugh at him. A small smirk had found its way to your lips, though. “Right…Maybe you should worry about your own stamina, Sebastian,” you said. “You do have quidditch try-outs coming up.”

“Yeah, that’s probably good advice,” he said sheepishly. He was thankful for the flush he had already had from all the climbing, or his embarrassment would be obvious in the blush on his face.

You just shook your head at him before marching on. The awkward conversation was quickly forgotten as he had to focus on crossing rickety boards and passages with steep drop-offs. You progressed rather quickly through the maze of tunnels as you were able to recall the proper path forward.

“You know, it’s quite nice going through a cave without you stopping every five feet to rummage through an old chest,” Sebastian teased.

“Well, if we’re sharing, it’s nice having you actually follow my lead to hide and assess a situation before rushing in wand blazing,” you said, glancing back at him before ducking into a tunnel.

“That was one time!” he argued as he followed in behind you.

“Only if you don’t count the second trip into the catacombs. Or the scriptorium. Where you cursed me. Which, I never got the chance to say, but fuck you for being able to, by the way,” you said.

Sebastian was taken aback. This was not how he anticipated the night going.

“What had I done to you at that point, anyway?” you continued.

You were out of the low tunnel now and were moving at a quick pace. Sebastian grabbed your hand so you would stop and look at him. “Just wait a second, will you?” he said.

He sighed, releasing your hand and then shifting nervously on his feet as he tried to find the right words. You watched him impatiently with an arched brow.

“You hadn’t done anything,” Sebastian said honestly. “I just wanted to get us out of there.”

“Well, you must’ve had some reason to hate me enough to want to cause me that much pain,” you replied bitterly.

“I didn’t,” he vowed. “I imagined that the day I brought you to Feldcroft to meet Anne – when you talked to Uncle Solomon after our fight – you sided with him. And I imagined that you would try to stop me from finding a cure for Anne. Obviously, I know that’s not true. But it was the only way I could think to want to hurt you. Even then, I…when you started screaming…” He squeezed his eyes shut as if in pain. “I don’t think I could do it again. I still have nightmares about it.”

You nodded in understanding. “So do I,” you admitted.

Sebastian knew he had caused you immense pain that night. He loathed himself for it. He had lost his nerve the second you started screaming, though the curse had still crackled between you and the door for what seemed like an eternity afterward. He had never considered, though, that it haunted you like it did him. “Merlin, I’m so sorry. I…I didn’t know,” he said. His eyes had welled with tears.

“I think it’ll help – knowing what you were thinking, I mean,” you said. “In the dream, you just don’t stop. Not when the door melts away. Not when Ominis begs you to. The pain goes on and on until I wake up.”

“I swear I’ll never, ever hurt you again,” Sebastian vowed. He couldn’t bear the thought of all the pain he had put you through. The curse alone was bad enough. But having to relive the torture in your sleep? More than ever, Sebastian regretted not insisting you learn the curse to cast it on him, instead.

“You’d better not,” you said light-heartedly. “Now let’s keep moving. We’re almost to the den.”

You reached the nest of the knarls with only a few spider hatchlings to dispose of during the rest of the trek.

The den was in the middle of a grassy patch. Moonlight filtered in through gaps in the cave ceiling. Several knarls scurried about, fleeing into their nests when they saw you and Sebastian approaching. You two filled a satchel with shed quills. It was tedious work picking up the tiny spines, and you were admittedly thankful you didn’t have to do it alone.

“That should do it!” you said. “Now, we’ve just got to get back out of here.”

Sebastian quickly spotted an exit from the cave right by the nest. “Why didn’t we come in this way?” Sebastian asked as you walked along the gravel path.

“I didn’t remember it was here,” you admitted. He gave you an irritated look. “I’ve been in a lot of caves, you know. I can’t remember every detail.”

Sebastian just chuckled at you. Though, his smile disappeared when you shrieked. In the darkness, you hadn’t noticed the path took a steep downturn. Sebastian yelled your name as you slipped out of sight. He jumped down after you without hesitation. You tumbled out onto a path carved between the rocky hills of the seaside. Sebastian soon slid next to you. He stood up first and extended a hand to help you. “Are you hurt?” he asked as he pulled you to your feet.

“Just a few scrapes,” you assured him.

All of a sudden, jets of light streamed all around you. You and Sebastian dove for cover as the spells blasted dirt up from the ground and ricocheted off the rocks. You two managed to scramble behind a large rock formation along the path. “I guess the Ashwinders noticed their scouts went missing,” Sebastian said.

“Or else heard me yelling when I went arse over tit,” you replied.

More spells flew overhead. They were coming from the ruins atop a nearby hill.

“Cover me,” you ordered.

You popped up, and Sebastian sent a deluge of spells up at the hill.

“Accio! Bombarda!” you said, summoning one of the Ashwinders into range before blasting them back into the cliffs. Sebastian levitated another foe before slamming them back to the ground. You and Sebastian each sent a flurry of curses at respective enemies, while dodging curses sent from a third. When the other two Ashwinders were down, you both focused on the sole remaining combatant. You each sent a blasting curse at her, and the infernos seemed to magnify each other. She was taken out instantly.

“Well, that was surprisingly easy,” Sebastian remarked brightly.

The wooshes of apparating forms sounded all around you as enemy after enemy appeared in a haze of black smoke.

You sighed. “You had to say it, didn’t you?”

Before you knew it, there were a dozen Ashwinders around you. You and Sebastian quickly downed edurus potions and started firing off spells. You injured several of them, but it was difficult to focus on any particular foe with so many running around. That made it difficult to thin their numbers. You took a thunderbrew, as well. You also threw out some tentaculas. You were pulling out all the stops to try to get the upper hand. You quickly took out three of the Ashwinders, using your ancient magic to call down additional lightning upon them each in turn. You both took another edurus potion to keep your protection. A few exploding charms, blasting curses, and a severing charm later, and you were down to the last four enemies. You disarmed one, and the fire they had been summoning rained down on them instead of you.

As Sebastian dispatched another one of the Ashwinders, another wave started apparating in. There were close to twenty surrounding you now. “Well, this is just perfect,” Sebastian said sarcastically as he sent several basic casts at an animagus, forcing them back into human form. “Where are they all coming from?”

“Clagmar Castle is just over that hill. They’ve got a stronghold there,” you replied while dodging incoming spells.

You downed potion after potion – edurus, thunderbrew, and maxima. You even threw out more tentaculas and a few Chinese chomping cabbages for good measure. You threw spells, boulders, and even dark wizards you’d transfigured into barrels of explosives until you and Sebastian were the only two left standing.

You both gasped for breath. “Are you okay?” Sebastian asked.

“Yeah. You?” you replied.

“I’m fine. This better be some bloody magnificent potion Garreth’s working on, though,” Sebastian groused.

You rolled your eyes. “Let’s just get out of here before–”

More Ashwinders began apparating in around you before you could finish your sentence. Around the bend, a troll collared in goblin metal emerged on the path.

“Bollocks,” you said as you realised you were out of edurus and thunderbrew potions. You downed a maxima potion.

The troll charged you both, and you dove in opposite directions to avoid its attacks. It caught Sebastian’s side with a swipe of his club, and he flew high into the air before landing hard on the ground.

You focused on the troll first, while dodging attacks from the dark wizards. You dodged another swing of its club before flipping it back into its own face with a knockback jinx. While it was dazed, you sent spell after spell at it. In your rush to attack the creature while it was vulnerable, you didn’t see the duellist behind you. They blasted you with a reductor curse as you dealt a final blow to the troll. It knocked you forward as a burning pain spread through your back. You yelled in pain. You landed on your stomach, but you quickly rolled over despite the agony it caused. You cast a protection charm just in time to block their next spell.

Sebastian disengaged from the executioner he had been duelling to focus on your attacker. “Confringo!” he yelled, blasting them off their feet. “Accio! Incendio!”

Sebastian cast a severing charm that separated the witch’s head from her already lifeless body and both thudded to the ground. His eyes were filled with pure rage.

Just then, a bolt of green light coursed through the air, hitting Sebastian in the leg. For a brief, terrifying moment as he crumpled to the ground, you thought he’d been hit with a killing curse. But as he cried out, you knew he was alive. For now, at least.

“Reducto!” you yelled, blasting the executioner back, but, somehow, he was still standing.

You scrambled to your feet as the three remaining Ashwinders began to close in. Sebastian was still writhing in pain. “Now this has become personal, you little brat,” the executioner growled.

“Like lambs to the slaughter,” another wizard said.

“I'll put some flowers on your grave,” the third said, chuckling darkly.

They froze when a loud roar came from behind you. The ground shook as a large beast leapt into view from the cliffs and sprinted forward. The wizards shrieked, but their cries were short-lived as the massive graphorn trampled them. Sebastian yelled in fear as the graphorn rounded on him.

“No!” you yelled.

The graphorn turned and headed straight for you.

“Hey, you stupid monster!” Sebastian said, raising his wand as he struggled to his feet.

“Sebastian, don’t!” you yelled, lunging to get between the wizard and the beast.

The graphorn growled behind you.

“Get out of the way, MC!” Sebastian yelled.

“Stand down,” you ordered before turning to the large beast. “Easy boy. He’s on our side.”

The beast instantly relaxed. You reached out a hand to pet his muzzle. He nuzzled into your shoulder, closing his eyes as you stroked his neck.

“You know this overgrown lizard?” Sebastian said, flabbergasted.

The graphorn huffed.

“He didn’t mean it,” you said soothingly. “This is the Lord of the Shore. He was part of my final trial with the Keepers. Lord of the Shore, this is Sebastian. He’s my friend.”

“So, we’re back to being friends now, are we?” Sebastian asked.

“I’d say we’ve been through enough tonight to merit it,” you replied. “Speaking of, do you have a spare wiggenweld? That reductor curse bloody hurts.”

“Yeah, here,” he said, limping over to you. He handed you a phial before downing his own.

You grimaced as you downed the brew. You hoped you never had to take another potion in your life, as you felt near bursting with how many you’d had to drink that night.

“We should get moving before the next wave finds us,” you said as you mounted the graphorn.

“You want me to ride that?” Sebastian asked in disbelief.

The Lord of the Shore growled.

“No offence,” Sebastian added quickly.

“The nearest usable floo is in Bainburgh. Unless you brought a broom, then your only other option is to walk and face whoever you find along the way,” you said, holding out a hand to him.

“I’ll take my chances,” he said stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Sebastian, just get on!” you urged.

“Ugh, fine!” he relented.

He grabbed your hand and mounted the beast behind you.

“You can pet him if you like,” you offered.

“I think I’ll pass,” Sebastian replied, looking horrified by the idea.

You rolled your eyes. “Suit yourself. Now hold on,” you said.

For a moment, Sebastian didn’t know where to place his hands. He eventually decided on holding onto your hips. His face flushed as he settled in behind you. It was a rather intimate position to be in.

“All right, boy, Sebastian’s not used to this, so unless we see any dark wizards, let’s start nice and–” The Lord of the Shore started out in a sprint, making both of you yelp. “SLOW!”

You held onto the graphorn’s neck, while Sebastian clung to you with his whole body as he yelled ineffectually.

“No need to race now, my friend,” you said nervously.

The beast continued on at full speed.

“Slow down now,” you said, willing him to listen. He did not.

“Is he always like this?” Sebastian asked as the graphorn crashed through barricades blocking the path.

“No, he’s normally much calmer,” you replied, yelling over the rushing wind. “I think you offended him.”

“Offended him?” Sebastian roared.

He shrieked again as the Lord of the Shore leapt into the air over another set of barricades. The beast landed on the ground with a hard thud that nearly bounced you both off. A few remaining Ashwinders attempted to slow the massive animal, but he mowed them down.

He crossed the bridge toward Bainburgh, then deviated down to the beach.

“Where are you going? We need to get to the floo!” you said, but the graphorn trekked on. “Stop! Not through the–”

The Lord of the Shore splashed through the creek, soaking you and Sebastian.

“…water,” you said dismally as the beast continued splashing his way down the stream. You gave an exasperated sigh. “Thanks for that.”

Sebastian, who had gotten a mouthful of water due to his screaming, coughed and spluttered. “Okay! I’m sorry I called you an overgrown lizard!” Sebastian said. “Just let us down!”

The Lord of the Shore slowed to a walk, and you breathed out a sigh of relief. “There’s a lad,” you said, patting his neck. “Are you done with your tantrum now?”

The animal growled at you.

“Guess not,” you quipped.

“Sorry,” Sebastian muttered when he realised he was still wrapped around you. He quickly went back to holding your hips.

“Oh, erm, don’t…don’t worry about it,” you said, a blush rising to your cheeks.

The Lord of the Shore kept a leisurely trot toward Bainburgh. It was rather bumpy riding bareback on a graphorn, even when he was just walking. Every step the beast took was making your arse bounce along Sebastian’s front. He had his eyes squeezed shut and his teeth digging into his bottom lip as he tried not to be hyperaware of the sensation.

He tried to push himself backward to put space between you two and end the maddening friction.

“Ow! Sebastian!” you said as his hands dug into your hips. “Enough with the death grip! I promise you’re not going to fall off.”

His cheeks flushed as you glared at him over your shoulder. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. He looked like a scorned child as he stared down, avoiding eye contact with you. Eventually, Sebastian was still able to shift his hips back enough to stop his suffering.

“Merlin, I can’t believe the sun’s starting to come up!” you said as you noticed the light peeking over the horizon. “I guess it’s been a longer night than I realised.”

“Time flies when you’re having fun,” Sebastian joked. “Or, you know, fighting for your life.”

You laughed. “I’m gonna squeeze in a bath and a nap before defence against the dark arts when we get back,” you said.

“Maybe Professor Hecat will give us a free period if we tell her we fought two dozen dark wizards and a troll,” he joked.

You laughed. “Wouldn’t that be nice?” you said. “Thank you for your help tonight, by the way. I don’t know what would’ve happened if those Ashwinders had found me alone.”

He smiled, but there was a sadness behind it. “Anytime,” he said.

He was relieved when you reached Bainburgh and he could finally dismount. “Thank you for rescuing us,” you said, patting the graphorn. “I’ll come visit you soon.”

The beast chuffed happily. He even gave Sebastian a lick before setting off.

“Ugh, that’s disgusting,” he groused once he was certain the Lord of the Shore wouldn’t hear him.

You just chucked. “At least he likes you now,” you replied. You threw floo powder into the green flame. “Room of Requirement, Hogwarts.”

You whirled through the floo, appearing almost instantly in the familiar room. You stepped aside and Sebastian whooshed into the room a moment later.

“You know, I was hoping that he’s not the only one who’s forgiven me,” Sebastian replied. “I really am sorry.”

“What for?” you asked.

“All of fifth year, basically. But especially cursing you,” he replied. You had almost forgotten about your earlier fight. “I should’ve insisted you or Ominis cast the curse on me. It was my fault we were trapped down there.”

“I don’t think either of us would’ve preferred that,” you said honestly. “It’s not a night I’d wish to repeat, but…we did what we had to. All three of us would be dead otherwise.”

Sebastian ran a hand through his hair anxiously. “What if Ominis was right? What if we could’ve found another way?” he argued as he began pacing. “I mean, I didn’t even try. Not bombarda or confringo or finite incantatem. I didn’t do anything to try to protect you.”

You shrugged. “You were focused on helping Anne,” you said simply.

He turned back toward you. “And I’ve used that as an excuse to hurt too many people,” he said. He looked at you imploringly. “I just…I want you to know that I really am trying to change.”

You pulled him into a tight hug. “I know, Sebastian. And I’m glad you are.”

Sebastian melted into your embrace. Of all people, he needed you to accept him. If you could see all the parts of him you had and not run away, then perhaps there was hope for him yet. If you still saw good in him, then he would continue to believe it was there.

Sebastian pulled back to look at you. “I was really scared that Ashwinder was going to finish you off,” he said gravely.

You nodded in understanding. “I thought that executioner hit you with a killing curse,” you admitted. “I was terrified that I’d…I’d lost you.” You cleared the emotion out of your throat. “I mean, you’re a git, but…I don’t know what I’d do if you were gone.”

He gave you a crooked smile. “You’ll always be stuck with me, I’m afraid,” he said.

“That doesn’t sound like such a bad thing,” you replied.

Sebastian bit his lip. He looked uncertain about his next words. “MC, I realised something…when I thought you were going to be taken from me,” he said. “I…I don’t want to never have told you…”

“Told me what?” you asked, prodding him to continue.

He took a steadying breath. “Well, you see, I…I like you…as more than a friend, I mean.”

You stared at him in disbelief.

Sebastian shifted uncomfortably as the silence stretched. “Could you…say something?” he asked. “I mean, it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I know I haven’t treated you the best. But I swear I don’t just see you as a means to help with Anne or defeating goblins. I really do care quite–Mmph!”

You had crashed your lips into his. The kiss was brief but passionate. “The feeling’s mutual,” you said, beaming at him.

Sebastian, though he had been caught off guard, recovered quickly. He reconnected your lips, kissing you fiercely as he pushed you back against the wall. He gripped your robes in both hands as he pinned his body against yours. You gripped his strong arms as you returned his fervour, sliding your tongue across his bottom lip teasingly before delving into his mouth. He had the coppery taste of a hard-fought battle, and it spurred you on as you thought again of how close you’d been to losing him.

You were the one to break the kiss as your lungs burned, begging for oxygen. “We should get what sleep we can,” you said, and Sebastian reluctantly let you go.

“Right,” he said as he recollected himself. “Well, maybe we could…go to Hogsmeade this weekend?”

You smiled. “Only if you promise there won’t be any trolls,” you joked.

“I’ve always thought you handled them quite well,” he said playfully. “But I’ll scope it out beforehand to make sure it’s troll-free.”

“Then it’s a date,” you said, unable to stop grinning. “We could go visit the Lord of the Shore after, too! He’ll probably even let you ride him alone.”

“Erm, yeah. Course. Brilliant,” Sebastian replied uneasily.

“Only joking!” you assured him.

He breathed out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank Merlin!”

A/N: Not me headcannoning that Garreth invented gigglewater. Also, the cave is modelled after the phoenix cave, just in a different part of the map now. That whole entrance/exit thing is true in the game, and I felt the need to include it in this story.